Kill Bernard
by Edna Pests
Summary: Someone is out to assassinate the Head Elf. Good thing they have the oh-so-useful Time Lady Sarah to help them out. A Doctor Who/Santa Clause/Star Trek crossover. Think that's nerdy? How nice. Go away.
1. The Pit

It began less than two months before Christmas. The stress was already settling in. Wasn't as bad, though. After long practice, I was finally learning to handle it. Having Scott Calvin as the new Santa helped a lot. He was a good worker, and had taken much of the previous pressure off my shoulders.

A new problem had arisen, though. Curtis.

We had gotten along really well before. He was and attentive listener and protege, if a little thoughtless at times. But then a more greedy ambition took him. Curtis was no longer content to wait till I had moved on. He wanted to be Head Elf _now. _And he was convinced I wasn't teaching him fast enough, especially in the fields of magic. Eventually he quite his training with me, saying he'd learn better on his own. Who'd once been my friend was now my bitter competitor.

...

It was the end of a trying day. A conveyer belt had stopped abruptly, sending puzzle pieces flying in all directions. I was tired, and trying to keep back frustration.

"Sir!"

I turned. It was Judy, looking tired as me.

"Sensors are detecting an unknown device just outside the dome." she said.

"Any idea what it is?"

"No, sir. Hence the word _unknown_."

"Now don't you start too."

She gave me a sympathetic smile. Sometimes Judy seemed older than me.

"I'll check it out." I said. "Probably just a jet-pack the E.L.F.S. forgot to take in. Curtis?"

He was to the side of the room, working on some new gadget. At least his talent for the technical hadn't left with his manners.

"Tell Santa when you see him, that I'm outside of the dome and should be back in a few minutes."

Curtis scoffed. "What, you already expect yourself to get lost?"

Under normal circumstances, I'd take this as brotherly teasing. But there was no mistaking his tone.

I rolled my eyes. "Just do it, will you?"

...

The elevator doors opened. I stepped forward eagerly for the hatch. It wasn't often that I got out of Elfsburg. It opened, and there was the sky. So different from the ceiling of ice I knew. Snow was falling lightly, and the northern lights, those ribbons of color, were shining beautifully. They were the only natural beauties I'd seen besides in pictures. Though, from what Sarah has told me, magic could be considered a natural beauty.

The search for the jet-pack to twenty to thirty minutes. I was shivering by then. Elf or no, I was still used to the Workshop, with it's warm fireplaces. The jet-pack had been hidden by a block of ice. I picked it up, and remembered when I had worn one to stop a weed as big as Godzilla. But that's another story.

There was a hiss of air. What made my brain pick it out from the normal? It was more like escaping air than Arctic winds. If it was gas I needed to get back, and warn the elves. Then there was a scream. It pierced shrilly through the air.

"Who's there?" I called. "Are you alright?"

There was no reply. I ran forward, dropping the jet-pack. The ice underneath creaked dangerously, and I stopped at once. It groaned its protest of my being there. Then it broke. I fell, air whistling past my ears. And then I hit my head on something hard, and blacked out.

When I woke up my head was throbbing with pain. I felt it with my hand. It was covered in a warm liquid. Rather than believe it was blood, I told myself the floor of the pit had melted snow. I wouldn't have been able to tell the difference anyway. Next to my head, I found a box. A tape player I guessed, as it was repeating the scream I'd heard. Feeling for buttons, I switched it off. Darkness surrounded me. A thin beam of light was all there was. It came from a small hole above. Words echoed in my brain, words Sarah had said.

"_Are the sides even or jagged?"_

They were even, a perfect circle. A machine had made the hole under the ice. Someone wanted me dead.

On cue, the silhouette of someone appeared over the hole. The light shone in a way that obscured the features of the person.

"Hello?" I called. "Look, send help! I can't get out on my own."

No answer. The shadow left. _Why_ hadn't I held on to that jet-pack? There was a sound of creaking metal. The hole was closing.

"Hey! Don't leave! It's closing!" Pointless, really. They were probably the reason why it was closing. It shut, and all light cut off. Would they leave me here to suffocate? Or to die of starvation?

The answer came via sound. Escaping air again. They were going to gas me to death.

Walking around with my arms outstretched, I looked for a door, a ladder, _anything_. Suddenly my foot went numb. The gas was paralyzing. Paralysis, _again_. But this version was much faster. My legs went next, and I collapsed. There was one last hope. A spark of golden magic lit my fingers. If Sarah still had the glass ball I had given her, she would know to come. The gas effected my lungs, and breathing stopped. I passed out.


	2. New Girl

When I woke up no one was there. This disappointed me, as people in books always have crowds of well-wishers around their sickbeds. The room was white, with circles of glass in the walls. I was on a plain bed. There were two wristbands on either hand, with flashing red and green lights.

_Christmas lights_, I thought dully. A plastic mask covered my mouth and nose. It was feeding out some sweet smelling air. I must be a prisoner, and they must still be gassing me. Trying to take the mask off caused a lot of pain. Everything was so stiff. Even moving my eyes hurt. There were two rough pieces of material on my neck, and one on my head. _Bandages,_ I guessed, and ripped off the mask properly. The effort made me dizzy. A woman's voice spoke from nowhere.

_Must be an intercom._

"Bernard, are you awake?"

"I don't know. Am I?"

"Yes." the voice said, matter-of-factly.

"Um, where am I?"

"Hang on. I'll explain everything in a moment."

A few seconds later a door sized portion of the room slid inwards and she came in. Her age could've been twenty, but you know how people look a lot older behind the eyes? It's a feature we elves have. This woman had it too. Her eyes were a darker shade of electric blue, and her hair was golden blonde, and curly. She was wearing human clothes.

"Put the mask back on!" she said at once. "It counteracts the gas."

"Who are you?"

The question seemed to tire her. "Gosh, how do I explain this? I'm Sarah. I've regenerated. Do you know what that means?"

"Yes." Before the Gallifreyan race had been destroyed, we(the elves) had kept in contact with them. Regeneration was a Time Lord's ability to change his or her body completely to save themselves from death. But I still wasn't convinced this was Sarah. She seemed to see that.

"Let me see. First time I met you I had a pencil, and you claimed to be from a midnight delivery service."

Nothing was said, but when she put the mask back on I didn't stop her.

She took a glass ball, with a circlet of gold, encrusted with red and white diamonds, around its middle. "Got your message. Such a quaint little messenger, this. Half of its power from elemental atoms, and half from psychic energy. When it was plugged into the TARDIS (that's the ship you're in, by the way) it led me right to you. In a few more seconds you'd've been dead." She said that last sentence casually. "The antidote had to be injected directly into your lungs first. Then the mask did the rest."

"How did you get a TARDIS?"

"Oh, I have my ways. So, Bernard, who do you think has the motive and means to kill you?" It was said so bluntly it stung.

"I-I have no idea. There's been no one new in Elfsburg."

"How about someone you know?"

"Elves don't kill." I said firmly.

She raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"_Yes,_ really. We have our faults, but we've never committed murder."

"But maybe-"

"Can you take me home?"

She blinked. "Uh, sure. Of course, the others will be worried about their precious Head Elf." She left. I pondered her new personality. The Sarah I used to know was playful, childish, and full of life. This one sounded more cynical, and weary. Something had happened to harden her.

An engine revved, but no engine that I had heard the like of before. Then she was back."This has helped you as much as it's going to." The mask came off. "Come on, you need to stretch so your muscles don't forget how to work. It won't hurt a bit." She helped me sit up, and I grunted in pain.

"Well," she smiled. "maybe a little."

"It seems your arrival heralds my paralysis." I complained.

She scoffed, mocking offense. "I like to think my arrival heralds your _cure _of paralysis."

That assured me that the Sarah I knew wasn't completely gone.

"Um, I can't move my legs."

"At all?"

"At all."

Sarah sighed. "I was afraid of that."

"Why? What's wrong with me?"

"I _barely_ showed up in enough time to save you. The gas may have done some permanent harm. Lets see how bad it is." She bent my leg. Intense pain flared, and for the third time that day, I blacked out.


	3. Recovery

This time I woke up in style. My surroundings were that of the elf hospital. Dr.Hismus, Santa, and Sarah were there. I turned my head, looking for Curtis, before I remembered we weren't friends anymore.

"He's coming around." Hismus pronounced.

"Obviously." Sarah said.

"How do you feel, Bernard?" Santa asked.

"Very stiff. What happened?"

"Yeah," said Sarah, scratching the back of her head."Sorry. Apparently your legs were worse off than I thought."

"But with some magic aided healing, I saved them." Hismus said proudly. "You'll be able to walk, and run. But your legs will still be stiff, and harder to work with. They may never be the same."

"So much for the cheery outlook of the elves." Sarah said.

"Are we going to talk about it, or keep avoiding the subject?" I asked. Everyone looked anxious, except Sarah.

"Yeah." she said. "Whoever it is, they must have been aiming for you, or we'd've had an E.L.F.S. agent in that pit instead. Do you know any elves that have been acting suspicious-"

"Elves don't kill." Santa said, firmly.

"So I've heard." Sarah said, dryly. "Look, I have experience in this sort of thing. Murderers can come from the most unlikely places-"

"But not impossible places." Santa said. "There's never been a murder, in all the history of Elfsburg. That's a fact. Couldn't it have been an alien instead? Koufax came here, looking for blood."

"Make you a deal." she said. "I'll consider the option of alien malice, and you tell me every single time an elf acts different...in fact, why don't I just stay here until this blows over?"

"Could you?" Santa seemed to relax a little. "Thanks, Sarah, that would be great!"

"And lets have one of the E.L.F.S. near Bernard at all times." she added.

"Lets not." I said. "Then the elves might think something's wrong."

"You've got to tell them a murderer's on the loose!" she protested. "It's for their safety as much as yours!"

"You just said the killer's only after me!"

"But who knows how many people they're willing to go through to _get_ to you!"

"Santa," I pleaded. "you know we can't add _more _stress on our workers!"

"We'll have the E.L.F.S., and our police on patrol." Santa said firmly. "But I see no reason to tell _all _of our people. Just the highest of rank in each area."

Sarah through up her hands in defeat, and left the room.

It was hard to sit up, but I did.

"What do you think you're doing?" Santa asked, watching me swing my legs over the side of the bed.

"Stretching. With Christmas only two months away, can't afford to be resting-"

"You're acting like a human male." Hismus chided. "There can be no question of going back to work when you're in such a state."

"B-but...Santa, tell him!"

"I have to agree with the doctor on this one." The traitor.

So for the next month, and then some, my life was one big schedule of stretching exercises and rest periods. Sarah would check up on me, while I was walking around the Workshop.

"Do you still see a lot of the Captain, Spock, and the Doctor?" I asked. (That's what she always called them. Captain Kirk was always The Captain, and Dr. McCoy was always The Doctor. And Spock was just Spock.)

She turned her head away. "I haven't seen them for a while."

"Well, you've got the TARDIS. You could always go visit them."

"Yeah, maybe I will."

This conversation needed to keep going, or I'd remember how tired I was. "How'd you get a TARDIS, anyway?"

"Well, it wasn't whole at first. Bits of it were scattered across the stars. Had to find them all."

"But space is big. _Really_ big."

"I knew exactly where to look, though." She looked through her black jackets pockets, and came out with a scroll encased in glass. "It's a poem, passed down through the generations of Gallifrey. A sort of riddle. Once it was solved it told me where to look. A long quest, that was."

"And a dangerous one, I bet." Breathing was getting harder."That's why you regenerated."

"Sit down, you're tired." She sat on a benched, and watched as I walked up, and sat too. She held back a smile.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Only just realized how comical your new walk is."

"Oh yeah, _you_ can laugh. _You're_ not stuck with it." But I wasn't mad.

_Crash!_ I jumped to my feet.

"Sorry, sir." It was only Cindy. She had dropped a pile of cookie tins, and was now picking them up. "Wasn't looking where I was going." She had bags under her eyes.

"After you've finished that, get to bed." I said. "Tell them you have my clearance."

"Thank you, sir."

"A bit jumpy, are you?" Sarah asked, and sighed. "Well, I suppose you have a good reason."


	4. Something Crucial

Twenty-nine days till Christmas Eve, and I could finally walk without tiring myself out. Still walked oddly, though. Oh well. Sarah had disappeared, along with the TARDIS(which usually disguised itself as an ornately carved wardrobe). I wasn't worried. She got bored of staying in one place. And she was always back in an hour. Advantage of having your own time machine.

The old stress I usually felt was returning hard. It may have been because of the fear that accompanied it. Every time an E.L.F.S. came in sight I felt reminded violently that there was fatal danger still lurking around here somewhere. I was more scared than I'd been in the Koufax Seed incident. Sarah said it was because the Seed had aimed for everyone in general, but in this situation I specifically was being targeted.

There was a lot to catch up on, work wise. Curtis had tried his best to handle things in my absence, but he was still in training. It was nighttime when I finally got down to the stables to visit Chet. Chet was a reindeer in training who had the mentality of a puppy. He was clumsy, and easily distracted. Still, I'd grown attached to him, and taken part in his training, to a certain extent. Our catchphrase had become, "Are you ready to rock 'n roll?" It encouraged him, though a lot of crashing usually followed as he tried to fly. Curtis thought I was a hopeless softie for having hope in Chet. Of course, his disapproval only made that hope stronger.

Chet was humming the Indiana Jones theme absentmindedly to himself. I whistled. He perked up his ears, and gasped. I hid so as not to be trampled on when he galloped out. Once he'd calmed down a bit I popped out of a pile of hay. He laughed, a cross between a baby's giggle, a six year old's laugh, and a pig's snort.

"Good to see you too."

"How many deer do you have in this place?"

I turned. It was Sarah, holding a large book.

"Quite a few."

"I've been trying to work up some defense plans." she said. "But there are some things I don't understand about magic-"

"That's the first time you've called it magic." I said, petting Chet's neck.

"If I say _elemental atoms_ most elves give me a blank stare. What I want to know is, how come you could teleport away from Charlie's house, but not from the gas?"

"I don't remember ever teleporting."

Sarah looked confused. "Well...what do elves call it? It was around the first time I met you. You'd just checked Neil sweater, and he took your burrito. Then you vanished in a shower of sparks."

"Oh! You mean Coming Home. I can Come Home to the Pole if I'm away from it, but not if I'm still in it's general area."

"Could you come home if you were, oh, I don't know," she sighed, and then said so quietly I could barely hear, "on another planet?"

"Why? Am I going to one?"

"No, definitely not. Come on, an elf in space? No way." She said it as if _I'd_ suggested the idea. "However, if worst comes to worst we may _have_ to get you away for a little while."

"But I'm really busy here at the Workshop-"

"Don't worry, Bernard. We're no where near that point yet." Sarah turned to leave, then turned back."By the way, whatever happened to your New-Yorkan accent?"

"I got bored of it."

"...Okay." she smiled, and left. About four seconds later Curtis arrived.. I pretended to ignore him. He walked up.

"Hi." he said.

"Hi."

"Good to see you back on your feet. Chet's looking well."

"You're being nice. What's the bad news?"

Curtis looked offended. "Maybe I just want to be friends again."

"Do you?" I asked hopefully.

"No!" He rummaged through his pockets, and brought out a card and a magnifying glass. "We seem to have forgotten something a bit...crucial."

Narrowing my eyes with suspicion, I took the card and glass. Read it over. Usual stuff that I'd memorized at the Academy...then I saw it. Two words flashed across my mind. _Aw, crud._

"_We?_" I said. "Oh no, Curtis. _You've _forgotten something crucial.


	5. Plane

_Disclaimer: Most of the dialogue and events in this chapter belong to Disney. Anything to do with Sarah, either her doing something or people doing stuff because of her, is mine._

Business in the Recon Tower was usually very boring. You didn't get to make, fix, or wrap anything. You just got to watch stuff. The Northern Lights were shining. That was about it. Sarah found me in a bored state of mind. When she came in she stood still for a moment, looking around. The elves were at their stations, with com-links that matched the shape of their ears. Red and green buttons flashed, and brass wheels shone. Thin screens showed places in and around Elfsburg via radar.

"I'd forgotten what level of technological advancement you all were at." she said.

"Impressed?" I asked.

"Not quite. But surprised, yes." She looked over Susie's(Recon #12) shoulder.

"Oh, you're still using _radar_." Sarah said in a patronizing tone. "How quaint!"

"Any new leads?"

I immediately regretted turning the conversation serious. The smile disappeared from Sarah's face, to be replaced by an emotionless mask. "I need more data. _I cannot make bricks without clay!_"

"Sherlock Holmes, the Adventure of the Copper Beeches."

Her smile returned, as I'd hoped it would. "Precisely."

"Human plane orbiting the area." Susie reported.

"Standard procedure." I replied. A.K.A., watch them until they go away. "They must be explorers."

"Or supply carriers." Sarah added.

Susie turned to me desperately. "They're coming right at us!"

I became instantly on edge. "Take us to Elfcon Three!"

Bertie, Recon #11, repeated the order into his com-link. Elfcon Three told all the people in Elfsburg that we were in a minor emergency. I took over Susie's station, because if I wasn't doing something I might go crazy. The elves around me shut down the machines that were most detectable to the plain. I helped, even putting a detection filter around Sarah's TARDIS, ending it all by spinning a brass wheel. It made no difference.

"These guys aren't stopping." I said. "Take us to Elfcon Two!" A higher state of emergency.

Bertie repeated the order. I felt Sarah watching over my shoulder. She hated feeling useless as much as me.

Suddenly the periscope in the middle of the room went up through the ceiling, where it would join with the North Pole to give the looker a clear view of the outside. As the machine came up, so did Santa, looking into it. There was a moment of silence while he watched. Then he looked at all of us.

"We have a partridge in a pear tree." Santa said. That was our code for when a direct threat to the S.O.S.(Secret of Santa) was close.

"You take us to Elfcon One." he went on. "Lets rig for silent running. Look alive, everybody!"

Everyone turned back to their buttons.

"Okay, we're at Elfcon One." Bertie repeated. Alarms blared, telling everyone in Elfsburg to keep quiet. I turned off all the machines in my reach, leaving nothing for the humans to detect. The alarms stopped, and a tense silence followed. This was it. If the plane didn't pass us by, Christmas would be ruined forever. Elves would be hauled off for experiments. The Workshop, that beautiful place, would be taken apart to see 'how-it-worked'. Sarah's grip was hard on my shoulder. I'd prefer it if she'd bite her nails instead, 'cause the pressure made me more anxious. Slowly a song echoed through the room, a song I'd memorized long ago.

"_You'd better watch out...You'd better not cry..._"

All heads turned.

"Find out where that music's coming from!" Santa whispered.

"Okay." Alan replied. Recon #10 turned to his panel, and a few moment's later, "Santa, I've got it on the Locator!"

Santa, Sarah, and I ran over to look. Alan's viewing screen showed the blueprints of Elfsburg. The stables were highlighted. I crossed my fingers that it had nothing to do with Chet. The three of us had to run there, as all the snow cars were down so they wouldn't be detected. I lagged a little behind, my legs still not as good as they could be. When we got to the stables everyone was either comforting the deer, or standing in anxious silence. No one seemed to be playing music. Santa listened hard for a moment, then pointed to the black doors at the end of the room. They led to where the sleigh was kept. Some workers rushed forward, and opened them. The music grew louder. Two feet stuck out of the sleigh, kicking to the beat. It was Curtis, with a musical Santa toy. We ran over. Santa flipped the off switch. Curtis opened his mouth, a question forming on his lips. I shushed him. We waited in silence. Sarah stood straight as a poker.

Then Bertie's voice echoed over the intercom. "We're at Elfcon Four. All clear."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

"Curtis," Santa said, "what do you say we get you a nice pair of headphones this Christmas?" He patted his shoulder, and turned to the motionless workers around. "It's alright everybody. Just get back to work." He and Sarah walked off, but I stayed behind.

"Curtis," I said. "you're nine hundred years old. Grow up!"

He frowned.

"Bernard." Santa called.

I frowned back, got down, and found myself face-to-face with Sarah. She didn't look happy. But I didn't want to discuss the Number Two Elf with her right now. Straightening my hat, I followed Santa.


	6. The Pantograph

_Disclaimer: Most of the dialogue and events in this chapter belong to Disney. Anything to do with Sarah, either her doing something or people doing stuff because of her, is mine._

A fourth pair of footsteps joined us as we walked outside.

"Now you know I didn't break any of the rules, according to the Santa Handbook." said Curtis.

"The _Handbook_." I rolled my eyes. "Curtis, do you go pee-pee with that thing?"

More frowning from Sarah at this display of uncomradeship. She could be annoying when she turned into a conscience, but that was only because she did it so well.

"It says, elves are encouraged to listen to music." Curtis went on. "It makes them more creative, more productive, and, well, more alert-LOOK OUT!"

The four of us ducked. A flying deer swerved through the place our heads had been moments before. I prayed I was wrong as I recognized that voice, while it imitated fanfare. A few seconds later there was a loud crash. We stood.

Sarah laughed. "Well, that was an adventure."

We walked slowly to the right to get a view of the crash-sight.

"Is he alright?" Santa asked.

Matt, a stable hand, looked the deer over. "He's okay, Santa!"

"Wow," Santa said, coming to a standstill. "that's gonna leave a mark."

I "ooh"ed in sympathetic pain.

"Is that Blitzen?" Santa asked. "Looks like Prancer. That- who is that?"

"It was Chet." smiled Curtis, delighted to tell who was to blame. I nodded at Santa. I'd told him about Chet before.

"One of our reindeer in training." Curtis added, for Sarah's benefit.

"Well, please tell me it's early in his training." Santa said jokingly. "Wow, nice fall." He patted me on the arm, assuring me he wasn't mad at Chet, and then he left, Sarah following. I wanted to wipe that smug smile off of Curtis's face.

"Curtis, when are you gonna tell him?"

That did it. The smile vanished. "Not now." He ran to catch up with Santa. When I got there, he was talking about something he needed to show Santa. He took us to the pantograph center. The pantograph was a chamber made of foggy glass with a conveyer belt running through it. It was usually used for copying toy plans and diagrams. Sarah looked at it with amusement, and I just _knew_ she was thinking the word 'quaint'.

"So you made some enhancements, did yah?" Santa said.

Curtis nodded.

"Well, lets see this baby cook."

A large, red toy car lay on the conveyer belt. The idea was to duplicate it so the elves didn't have to make so many copies of the same toy.

Curtis turned eagerly to the controls. "Watch this." He pulled a lever with melodramatic flourish. The conveyer belt moved, and the car went in. There was a crackle of electricity that made me jump.

This was wrong. Machines making toys?! It was too..._human_.

Curtis went to the other side of the pantograph, urging us to follow. I crossed my arms. Santa saw the look on my face. He put a hand on my arm, and a finger to his lips, as if to say, _I know you don't like it, but keep quiet. Lets humor Curtis._

The original car emerged, and then it's copy came out. Curtis picked it up. The small crowd of elves that had gathered watched eagerly. He revved the cars engine, and the elves cheered.

"A primitive cloning device." Sarah said, with a patronizing smile. "Next he'll be discovering the opposite of light."

"Hasn't that already been discovered?" I said. "You know, dark?"

"Oh no." she said. "Darkness is merely the absence of light. You have yet to find the opposite."

The elves were "ooh"ing and "ahh"ing over the duplicate. I still felt sour. Santa noticed this.

"Aw, come on." he said.

"Santa, what if the elves feel they're being replaced by a machine?" I said. "We have an eons old tradition of making toys by hand."

"I agree with you." he assured me. "No one can handcraft a hobby horse like an elf. But what this machine can do is relieve some of the pressure caused by the fast food industry. All those little action figures and toys, you know? We can't keep up with the demand."

"But isn't the whole purpose of your way to make kids better?" said Sarah. "You don't have to cater to greedy kids."

"The world is teaching them to _want, want, want_, so some of them haven't the slightest notion they might be acting a little greedy." said Santa. "Our whole purpose is to make _Christmas_ better, as good as it can be, and what the machine allows us to do is concentrate on the things we do best."

For all of those words, he was still choosing Curtis's suggestion over mine. Again seeing my emotion, he patted me on the shoulder. Then he walked over to Curtis.

"Curtis, great job. This is fabulous."

"Thank you, sir." Curtis's unbearable smug smile returned. Santa left.

Sarah showed her uncanny ability to know what I was thinking. "Hey, don't worry, Bernard." she said. "Santa knows you're irreplaceable." She made to follow him.

"Curtis!" I walked up to him, and looked at his group of admirers. "Back to work." They obeyed without complaining.

"You're stalling." I told Curtis, bluntly. "If you don't tell Santa Claus right now, I- I'm- I will- I just don't know what I'm gonna do!" And with that stunning remark, I walked off.


	7. Tinsel Football

_Disclaimer: Most of the dialogue and events in this chapter belong to Disney. Anything to do with Sarah, either her doing something or people doing stuff because of her, is mine._

We found Santa in the busiest part of the Workshop, under a large, red toy car. A small crowd of elves were watching him work. We joined them. There was a moment or so of tinkering, and then he said, "Okay, try it now."

Carl, an engineer, turned the car on. Its engine revved satisfyingly. The elves cheered, and I couldn't help smiling.

"Okay, alright." Santa said, coming out and standing up. He turned to Carl. "Here's what we need: You get one more bolt on that flange down there, and it's ready for Christmas. Good work, guys."

Carl smiled, and went to discuss the advice with the other engineers. Santa went to browse the Workshop, Sarah, Curtis, and I following.

Kim walked up to us. She was younger than Cindy, but she'd graduated early do to her expert cooking skills. Even now she was in her chef's uniform, carrying a basket of pastries, and generally looking endearingly cute. I smiled, and then stopped, because Kim didn't like to be patronized.

"Do you want a cookie, Santa?" she asked.

"Do I want a cookie?" he pretended to ask himself. _"Yes!_ What's fresh?"

She handed him a particularly scrumptious looking pastry, and he tried it.

"Sweet just like you." he said. Santa could compliment her without sounding condescending.

Our next stop was the J 'n B(Jumping and Bouncing) Department. Santa had an eye for singling out workers who looked frustrated. We stopped by Alexander, who was working on a small kangaroo with a hat. It was meant to hop across the table, but it kept overbalancing.

"Alexander, lets think." said Santa. "Take the hat off."

Alex sat up straight, and did so. Then he lowered the toy carefully to the table. It hopped across with gusto. I smiled again. It always felt good to see people overcoming obstacles when they worked together(and yes, I know that sounds cheesy). It's one of the reasons while I'll never want to leave my job.

"Too much counterweight." Santa explained.

"Thanks, Santa." Alex said, shaking his hand. "You're the man."

"That's why they give me the big belly, so I don't fall over." Santa said. "Ha ha!" Then he turned around, and looked up to a higher floor level. Joey, one of our elves from wrapping, was leaning against the rail.

"Hey, Joey!" Santa called. "How's that static-free tinsel coming?"

Joey smiled mischievously. "Hey, guys!" he called over his shoulder. "Santa wants to see the new tinsel!"

Before we knew what was happening several elves dumped piles of said tinsel onto us. My vision was obscured by the glittering stuff. I heard Sarah, Joey, and his friends laugh heartily.

"You know, I could take care of this the ugly way." Santa said.

The laughter stopped.

"Or," he went on, "we could got outside, and play some football."

The elves cheered. I heard Santa and Sarah's footsteps as they walked away. I had a moment's trouble getting the tinsel off, then I turned to Curtis.

"Curtis," I said angrily. "you need to tell him _right now!_"

"I don't know." Curtis sighed. "He's so happy right now. And why do _I_ have to be the one to tell him?!"

"_Because_ I'm the Head Elf. I don't give bad news. It's one of the perks of my seniority."

Curtis rolled his eyes.

"Now," I said, taking him by the shoulder. "tell him."

This time we found Santa outside. Joey and his friends were lined up in formation, Phillip holding the football. It was the whole team against Santa, and the game was about to begin. We joined the crowd of watchers. I stood by Sarah.

"Come on, Pork chop, bring it on!" Santa taunted.

"Who you calling Porkchop, Meatloaf?" Phillip retaliated.

"Burn." Sarah said.

"Meatloaf?" said Santa, tilting his head to the side. "You want to talk some trash? I'll talk trash with yah, but first I'm gonna blitz." He started moving from side to side, warming up, and taunting various elves in a mock-serious way.

"Ready, set!" Phillip ordered his team, then switched to code. "Seven...swans a swimming! Six...geese a-laying!"

"Five golden rings!" the crowd chimed.

"Hike!"

The crowd cheered as Phillip passed the ball to George, who passed to Joey, who ran for the score zone. The rest of the team encircled Santa, keeping him from Joey.

"He might go..." puffed Joey. "all the..."

Santa aimed a tackle in his direction, and missed him by inches.

"Way!" Joey had scored, and the crowd erupted into cheers. He did a short victory dance, cheered, "Rumblin', stumblin', bumblin'!" then joined his team, who were making a dog pile on top of Santa. I was grinning wide. Then a felt a tug at my sleeve. It was Sarah, and she looked serious.

"Bernard, you've been keeping something from Santa all day."

I looked down.

"Why are you afraid to tell him?" she went on. "That's not the Bernard I know. You used to not back down from yelling at him."

_That was before my job was in jeopardy_, I wanted to reply angrily, but I knew she was right. I walked into the field. The elves had gotten off, and Santa was sitting up.

"You guys aren't elves, you're wizards!" he said, affectionately. "No matter how many time you run that play, I never see it coming."

"Santa?" I said, guiltily. "We need to talk."

He saw the look on my face, and took on the attitude of a father whose son was about to confess some naughty deed, and he was already comforting him just because the son had had the nerve to tell the truth. "Okay. Lets go down to my office."


	8. Christmas Gets Complicated

Disclaimer: Most of the dialogue and events in this chapter belong to Disney. Anything to do with Sarah, either her doing something or people doing stuff because of her, is mine.

Sarah decided to accompany us. She had shamed me into doing this, so maybe she felt it was her duty to help me through it. On the way to the office I pondered different ways to break the news. The gentle touch? Or just be blunt about it? We arrived. The office was a bedroom as well. There were places where the top ten most troublesome toys were tested by Santa himself, model trains being among them. I went to get his coat, still running through ideas. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Santa testing the waistband of his pants.

"That's weird." he said. "These pants fit yesterday, didn't they?"

_Oh no_, _it's happening already_ I thought. Sarah, on the other hand, wasn't worried at all.

"It's only to be expected that you would lose some weight after running up and down the Workshop all the time." she said. "A mystery to me how all the Santas weren't skinny grumblers."

He opened his mouth, no doubt to start explaining the standards of the Pole's magic, when Abby came in, bearing a tray with a mug and a flagon of hot cocoa. She was Judy's sister, and her assistant.

"Hot cocoa for you, Santa." she said, with an innocent smile that just made you know she was up to something.

"This is not a good time, Abby." I said.

"I sent Dasher down for some Brazilian cocoa beans." she persisted, setting the tray on his desk. Santa moved to stand behind his desk, smiling, and with a knowing look in his eyes.

"What's the bad news?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Abby asked, smiling back, innocence at it's height. That did it, certainty that something was wrong reined. I stood by Santa.

"Whenever you play the designer bean card, generally you have bad news." he said. The smile vanished from her face. She handed him a fragment of paper. He took it, and unfolded it. Sarah came over to see.

"What are you doing with the Naughty and Nice List?" Santa asked.

"Just don't shoot the messenger." Abby said grimly. While Santa unfolded the List, I looked at her as if to say, What's going on?

"It's...Charlie."

Sarah raised both eyebrows.

"Sheen?" asked Santa, speaking my thoughts. "I thought he straightened out."

"Not that Charlie."

A cold feeling entered the pit of my stomach. No, it couldn't be...

"My Charlie." said Santa. "My son, Charlie? He's on the Naughty List?!" He looked to me. I shrugged, as bewildered as him. It seemed impossible.

"There's gotta be a mistake."

"We don't make mistakes." Abby said, eyes downcast. "I'm sorry, Santa. Please excuse me." She left, solemnly. I didn't know what to say. She could've announced Charlie had broken an arm, and it wouldn't hurt as much as this. I'd grown so attached to the sport.

"How could this happen?" Santa said under his breath.

"It may not be what it seems." said Sarah. "The List maker is a machine, after all. Perhaps your son did something that looked bad, but was really for the good."

Santa turned to me. "Is this what you and Curtis were trying to tell me?"

It was then that Curtis came in, pushing a brass machine larger than himself. The Magnifier.

"Great, you told him. Good." he said, and turned to Santa. "Lets get you dressed for that meeting."

"I can't have the meeting here. I'm gonna have to go see Charlie."

They were talking about the annual meeting of the Council of Legendary Figures. Mother Nature, the Tooth Fairy, and others would be in attendance. But I couldn't let him go without him knowing. Maybe he'd want to discuss it with the Council. Luckily for him, Curtis had come at just the right time.

"Number Two," I said, purposely pointing out his lower rank. "tell him right now."

"Tell me what?" asked Santa. "Guys, come on. Come clean."

Curtis drew in a deep breath. "Santa, there's a clause."

"That would be me."

"No, I mean there's another Santa clause."

"Curtis, in case you haven't noticed, this time of year the malls are filled with other "Santa Claus'"."

Curtis turned to me, frustrated. I nodded, encouraging him to keep trying. He turned back to Santa. "Yes, but there's another Santa _clause_. There was a first clause, but there's also a second clause."

"Get on with it!" Sarah said.

Number Two breathed deeply, and tried again. "When the last Santa fell off your roof, and you put on his coat, you found this." He took out the card he'd shown me, and put it into the Magnifier.

"Right." said Santa. "_He who wears the coat takes on the responsibilities of Santa Claus_..something like that. And, of course, the rest would be history, right?"

"But it seems," I said. "our Number Two elf," I turned to Curtis. "the Keeper of the Handbook, overlooked the single _most important detail in the history of Christmas_!"

Sarah whapped me lightly on the arm. "Ease up, Bernie. You forgot it too."

Curtis hadn't taken his eyes off me. "Wow. _One_ mistake in nine hundred years."

Sarah turned to him. "And you can be nicer too!"

"Now everyone just calm down," Santa said, soothingly. "and plainly tell me the rest."

The tension in the room eased a little, showing Santa's aptitude for leadership.

"Look." I said, and pulled up one of the magnifying lenses for him to see the fine print on the card.

"I-I can't see that."

Whoops. Forgot human sight wasn't as good as elf sight.

"Better now?" I asked, pulling up a bigger one.

"Uh..."

A bigger one. "Or now?"

"Well..."

An even bigger one. "Better now?"

"It's getting there."

I admit, I liked playing with the Magnifier. I pulled up the next lense smoothly. "Or now?"

"I can't see anything." he said, testily. I pulled up the biggest one. It was bigger than Santa's head and shoulders.

"I see. Good, good, good." he said. Sarah, Curtis, and I looked over his shoulders as he read.

"The cardholder acknowledges...woman of his choosing...true love...not valid in the state of Utah...holy...matrimony?!" he blurted. "I've got to get married?!"

"Yes." I said, timidly. "It's...the Mrs. Clause."

Santa backed up. He looked defensive. "But what if I don't want to get married?" Then he looked down at his belly, because it had just shrunk.

"Oh, dear." said Curtis. Then he announced, as if he were the herald of doomsday, "_The de-Santification process has begun_!"

Sarah somehow managed to be amused in this seriousness. "You made that word up."

But Santa didn't doubt it at all. "The de-Santification? Are you telling me that if I don't get married," he looked at me, eyes asking for help I couldn't give. "I don't get to be Santa anymore?"

I winced and nodded at the same time.

His face fell, and he sat down. "Wh-what about the kids? What about the elves?" He looked at me. "And what about you guys?"

"It's not completely hopeless, sir." I said, in what I hoped was a soothing tone. "You still have time to find a wife."

"How much time do I have, Curtis?"

"Twenty-eight days."

"So I've gotta find a wife by Christmas."

"Actually, Christmas Eve." Sarah corrected him. I marveled at how she could be untouched by all this.

Santa sighed. "Guess it's over."

"No!" said Curtis. "You can't think that way! _Please_, don't give up hope! Because if you do...then we have to."

I felt my heart drop. He was right. We had never had a Santa as good as Scott Calvin, and the Pole would fall apart without him. For the first time during the conversation, Sarah looked dismayed.

Then Santa's beard shrunk. We could only watch as we got closer to losing him.

"Christmas is getting complicated." Santa said. I couldn't agree more.


	9. Over Our Heads

_Disclaimer: Most of the dialogue and events in this chapter belong to Disney. Anything to do with Sarah, either her doing something or people doing stuff because of her, is mine._

We passed the Legendary Figures as we went out. They all seemed to know Sarah, but I suppose that's only to be expected. Her being the last of the Time Lord's, she is a legendary figure, if not a Legendary Figure. We left Santa with grimace/smiles of encouragement. Curtis left for the pantograph, muttering something about the R.A.M. Sarah insisted I take her to the Naughty and Nice Center. It was a circle of printers with a steel globe in the middle. The machines were printing the List constantly, what with the millions upon millions of kids to be judged.

"Why are all the elves working with the List wearing jail pajamas?" Sarah asked. The N 'n N uniforms were indeed black and white stripped, with pointy hats that hung loosely.

"It's meant to be symbolic." I said. "Black and white. Naughty and nice."

"How deep does this thing go, I wonder." Sarah said while looking over one of the printer's. "Does it take into account the child's motives? And what if the person did something wrong, but didn't know it?"

"There you are, you've stumbled on to one of the oldest debates of Elfsburg. Some elves say we should take all deeds at face value, and some say we should judge no child. We've come to a sort of halfway point, trying to discount any sins we think they're going to regret anyway." I said. "Yeah, I know it's not much, but it's either that, or risk getting hopelessly entangled in mini child trials."

Sarah took out a silver stick, about as big as her finger, and started scanning the Center with it. I knew this to be one of the five devices she kept with her at all times.

I waited for a while, then asked, "Anything?"

"No." Sarah sighed, and put the device up. "This machine works fine. Such a pity. I really wanted to prove Abby wrong when she said, 'We don't make mistakes'."

"So you've met my sister." It was Judy. "Yes, she can be overconfident. And she has too much of a need to control everything. Abby has a lot to improve on."

"But she's such a great help!" I protested. "She knows which elves need help just by their expression, like you and Santa."

"Well, I suppose a lot of people tend to be hard on their apprentices." Sarah said, and looked pointedly at me. Thinking of Curtis, here he came, running up to us.

"The meeting is almost over." he said. "I've told some of the workers to tell Santa to meet us at the pantograph."

"Why there?" I asked. "Why not here?"

"I just thought it would be better." Curtis said, trying to look innocent. I just _knew_ he was going to start showing off again. My theory was proven correct when, as the three of us reached the room, Curtis went straight to the machine's controls, adjusting them here and there. Sarah and I stayed off to the side of the room.

"He's quite clever, actually." she said, watching him. "His duplicating system may be basic, but it's very good, considering the time zone he's stuck with."

"Yeah, Curtis is a real wiz with technology." I said, dryly. She turned her head to look at me. _Here it comes,_ I thought.

"You two used to be great friends." she said. "He seemed the happiest of all that you hadn't been killed by the Seed's poison. What happened?"

"Ambition happened. Plain, greedy ambition. He wants to be Head Elf now."

"But I thought he only got the job when you retired."

"That was the agreement, but he doesn't want to wait anymore."

"But the way you talk to him-"

"But the way he talks to _me!_" I looked at her, straight in the eyes. "_I_ didn't want this, Sarah. _He_ started being angry and sarcastic all the time, and I got tired of trying to regain friendship. What, do you want me to just stand there and take all that attitude from him?"

"_Yes!_" She said it with surprising force. "Do whatever you have to to make amends! Good comrades don't come often. Don't give them up without a fight. You have no idea what it's like to lose a friend forever-" She stopped, her eyes shiny, and looked away.

I took a moment to process her words.

"Sarah," I said timidly. "did something happen to-"

Santa came in. She rushed up to meet him.

"Well, how did it go?" she asked.

Santa walked up to the pantograph. Curtis, Sarah, and I crowded around him in a half-circle.

"Not well." he said, rubbing his eyes wearily. "The other council members had no advice for me. How can I help Charlie and also get the Pole ready for Christmas? I can't be in two places at once."

"Maybe you _can_ be." said Curtis. Then he turned to the other elves in the room. "Can I have the room clear for a minute?"

They looked at him, shocked at the prospect of stopping work. Then they started to file out.

"Thank you." Curtis said. "Take a cocoa break."

At the word 'cocoa' their faces lit up, and they ran the rest of the way.

"What is he up to now?" Santa asked me. I shrugged.

Curtis turned us. "Walk with me."

We started circling the pantograph, observing it from every angle.

"I've tripled the R.A.M., and reconfigured the circuitry paths." Curtis said.

"I see you've externalized the power source to make better use of the electromagnetic energy." Santa said.

"Nah." said Curtis, fiddling with buttons. "It's just there 'cause it looks _really_ cool."

Santa chuckled, coming to a halt. "Yeah, it does."

Sarah realized what Curtis was doing just as I did.

"No, no, no! _Bad_ idea!" she said. "This cloning process is way too primitive. Santa is _not_ going in there."

"Right!" I said. "Besides, creating a copy of Santa won't solve our problems. It would be a toy!"

"And the elves would know." Santa added.

"But _this_ will be a very special toy!" Curtis said.

"How's that, Curtis?"

"Okay, I added a fuzzy logic circuit to the pantograph. The duplicate will look and think _just_ like you.So when you're with your family dealing with Charlie, and looking for a wife-"

"-the toy Santa will be up here, melting in front of my fireplace."

"No! The toy Santa will be dealing with business up here!" Curtis was sure his idea was a good one, and it looked like he was starting to convince Santa as well.

"_I_ can deal with business up here!" I said, walking up to him. Curtis rolled his eyes.

"That's true." Sarah said. "Bernard took care of the Pole for several months while you were still becoming Santa, so why do we even need a duplicate?"

"Besides," I said. "if the elves ever found out that we made a switch-" I gasped at the thought. "No! No! This _machine _is not the answer!"

Curtis looked so disappointed that I almost, _almost_, pitied him. It seemed everyone was against him.

Then there was the sound of very tiny feet. A mouse came from the side of the room, and ran up the conveyer belt.

"Hey!" Curtis said. "Hey, you! Shoo!"

But it was too late. The animal ran in, and the pantograph turned on.

"Go!" Curtis said. We ran to the other side. Electricity was crackling menacingly down the sides of the machine. The mouse came out, looked at us, squeaked, and ran away. Then another mouse, exactly the same, except a bit shinier, came out, looked at us, squeaked, and ran away. Santa looked impressed.

"Come on, you can't get much better than that." said Curtis. "And I _promise_, it won't hurt a bit."

Santa said, "...I'm going in."

"Oh, I can't watch this!" I whimpered. Sarah smiled in amusement as I went to a corner, my back facing the horrible scene I was sure was about to occur. I sneaked a glance. Santa had gotten on the conveyer belt. I covered my eyes, and turned back. The pantograph had turned on. Electricity popped.

"Ow! Ow!"

"What happened to 'it won't hurt a bit'?" Sarah asked. Then everything went quiet. I turned to look. Santa, or what looked like him, walked out. His attitude made me think of Frankenstein's monster.

"It's perfect!" Curtis cried.

Then Santa looked normal, very much Scott Calvin. "That's because it's me, Einstein."

I ran to him. "Santa, are you alright? Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He turned to Curtis. "I got a shock. Is there supposed to be a shock?"

All the while Sarah was looking grimly over our heads. I turned to look, and then Curtis and I broke into twin screams of terror.

The four of us said together, "It's naked!"

The toy Santa had been born. Everything about him said 'fake'. His features were stiff, and chiseled looking, and his skin was shiny, obviously plastic. He was also without a scrap of clothing.

"Uh, throw something over him." Santa told me.

"Right." I said, and looked around for a sheet.

"It's incredible!" Curtis said.

"Yes it is." Santa agreed. I could almost hear Curtis's smug smile. We draped the sheet over the toy's shoulders.

"Can he talk?"

Curtis shrugged.

Santa turned to the toy. "Um, hello?"

The toy grunted, looking like he was about to be sick.

"Hello?" Santa tried again.

The toy's eyes flew open, and he answered in the same tone, "Hello?"

I felt my mouth drop open.

"Ho ho ho!" Santa said.

"Ho...ho...ho." the toy repeated.

"Not bad."

"Not bad, yourself."

Santa chuckled. "I can't put my finger on it, but there's just something about you that I like."

The toy said, as if testing out the words, "There's just something about you that I like."

Santa turned to Sarah and Curtis. "You two watch him. I'll be right back." Then he took me by the arm, and led me to the side of the room. "Bernard, I need your help on this."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, I gotta go see Charlie. Sarah should be able to protect you while I'm gone. I want you to convince the elves that Toy Santa is me."

"Uh, hmm. Have you seen that thing?" I asked, dryly.

"I've seen it. I think if you keep the elves at a distance, and tell them that I changed my look, it'll work."

I looked over at Sarah. She was watching the toy with a grim expression on her face. A killer on the loose, the Mrs. Clause, Charlie, and now this.

"Oh, Santa, we're in _way_ over our heads here."

He looked at me, straight in the eyes. "If _anybody_ can do this, it's you, Number One."

"I'm not gonna lie to all the elves!" I spluttered. In retrospect, that was probably the worst thing I could've said.

...

"I myself think he looks absolutely terrific!" I told the crowd of elves surrounding me. Every single elf in the Workshop. "Better, and fresher somehow, than he has in years."

All my movements were jerky and abrupt. I was so scared that one of them were going to figure out I was lying to them. "There's now a more supple veneer to his skin, and an added luster to the thickness of his hair. You could almost say there's a...a..." Heck, there wasn't any other way to say it. "-a toy-like quality to him. Most importantly, he's _very_ happy with his new look, and I would caution you all not to point, or stare, or use the word 'plastic'." I smiled awkwardly. "Okay? Okay. Thank you. That's it, that's all. Back to work, please." They started to go back to their stations. I waited a moment, and then sighed in relief. At least no one had called out, "You're lying!" I went to Sarah, who had been watching from the side of me.

"What do you think?" I whispered. "Did they believe me?"

"Yeah, they did." she said. "They trust you."

They trusted me, and here I was, betraying that trust. Maybe Curtis was better than me after all.


	10. Two Truths

_Disclaimer: All of the dialogue belongs to Disney, except when Sarah is talking or being spoken to._

Today was the day that Santa would leave. I could've come along, but I wouldn't feel safe leaving Elfsburg under the control of the toy Santa. And besides, I would be no good at helping him find a wife. How could I help him with his romance when I couldn't make my own take off?

Sarah ran up to me. She had some wires draped around her shoulders, a control in her left hand, a small screen in her right, and she was generally looking very technical.

She matched my stride. "Hold that, will you?" she put the screen in my hand, and began attaching the control to the wires. "So where are you going, Bernard?"

"To say goodbye to Santa. He's leaving today, you know."

"Gosh, so soon?"

"Well, yeah. He only has twenty seven days left."

"Don't start counting down the days." Sarah warned. "You'll end up like S-Spock."

I wondered why she stuttered over his name, but before I could ask, the screen beeped, and emitted green light.

"What have you been doing with all this stuff?" I asked.

"Scanning the toy Santa. Have to make sure he isn't dangerous. And _why_ do we even need him?" she asked, with exasperation. "Oh, yes, yes, I get the theory. If the workers think that Santa is still among them, they'll work faster and happier. But it isn't worth the risk-"

"You keep talking about the risk." I said. "What danger do you think's coming?"

She gazed at me with a soft look, perhaps thinking that I had enough stress on my shoulders without her adding something else to worry about.

"Oh, there's nothing official to get nervous about yet." she assured me. "It's just...I don't trust that pantograph."

We stopped, because we had reached the stable doors.

"I agree with you." I said. "But Santa doesn't, and won't be convinced otherwise. Wanna come say goodbye with me?"

"No, I've got more work to do." she said, taking the screen back. She took in my expression, and punched me gently on the shoulder. "Ease up, Bernie. Whatever you can't handle, I'll take care of."

My shoulders dropped, releasing a tension I hadn't known I'd been carrying. I nodded, and went into the stables. Santa was talking to the reindeer Comet. I took something out of my pocket, and walked up to them.

"Before you go, take a look at your watch." I said, handing it to him.

"Hey," he said, looking it over. "can't go anywhere without that."

"I've done some work on it." I felt somewhat embarrassed, as if my work on the watch was being put on a scale with Curtis's work on the pantograph, and Curtis's work was undoubtably better.

"It's beautiful, Bernard. It really is."

"You like it?" I asked, heart lightening.

"I love it! The workmanship is fabulous. I love the little burnished stuff."

Then I knew he hadn't even seen it, but was just saying things to make me feel better.

"I've added a power reserve that measures how much magic you have left." I pointed out. "It's at ten now."

"Well, that should be enough."

"But if at _any_ time you use up _any_ magic for _any_ reason, the level drops." My expression turned serious. "Santa, if it gets to zero, you won't be able to return to the Pole."

He gestured for me to lean in. I did so.

"Then lets not let it get to zero." he whispered. I leant back, smiling. That was our leader. If one of _us_ ever got in trouble he was all solemnity, but if he ever had problems he didn't even give them a passing glance.

"Now, look at me." I said, taking him by the shoulder, and smiling awkwardly.

"Mm-hmm?"

"What's the most _important_ thing?"

"For you not to touch Santa?" he guessed.

I took my hand off. "For you to come back." I chuckled, and handed him Comet's reins. Cindy gave him a bag that, like Sarah's TARDIS, was bigger on the inside. Comet grumbled a complaint.

"Comet, _please_, just chill out a little bit, okay?" said Santa. "Come on. It's not like we're pulling the sleigh or anything." He got on, Comet grunting under his weight. "Right? There's no packages. It's one stop. Oh, and I think I might've forgot to mention: We're gonna go see Charlie."

Comet's eyes widened. "Charlie?!" he said eagerly, and took off down the room. I watched them go, wondering whether or not the mess Santa was leaving was bigger than the one he was going to fix. Then they took off, flying above Elfsburg. I smiled slightly at the inspiring sight, and turned to leave.


	11. A Little Buzz

_Disclaimer: The scene with Danny is all mine, except for the setting and characters. The next scene up to the line "I am Santa Claus. Boo!" is Disney's._

"Bernard!"

I looked up from over Alexander's shoulder, who I had been helping fix a model train set. Danny strode up to me, wearing his green E.L.F.S. uniform.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

"Not right now, I'm busy. Find me later."

"It's about Santa." he said, coldly.

"_Crud_." I muttered, under my breath. I turned to Alexander. "Judy will be passing by soon. You ask her for advice."

Danny led me into a corridor. He stopped in front of the Ballroom. Large candy canes framed the passage to my left.

"I'm the oldest of my team." he said. "That means I've had to endure more liars than they have. You learn to recognize when someone is fibbing." He raised an eyebrow. "'_A new look_'?"

I groaned. I wanted to whine, '_Santa made me do it!_', but that was wrong. No one had forced me to do this. Sure, I would've lost my job if I'd disobeyed, but it's not like Santa would've kicked me out of Elfsburg. Again, I felt like this whole business was my fault.

"If my team and me are going to protect everyone, I _need _to know what's going on." he said. "Come on, boss. It's not like an agent has never kept a secret before."

"Very well. Come in here." I opened the door. No one ever came into the Ballroom, because it was too painful, so it was the perfect place for a private conversation. In there I told Danny all.

"And you just let Curtis make that thing?" Danny asked, while batting a softball away from his face.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It sounds crazy-ow!" I kicked away a basketball that had hit me in the shin. "But who knows? Maybe Santa and Curtis will be right, and the toy clone will be a help."

"Keep telling yourself that, Bernard." Danny sighed.

We both looked up as the door opened, and closed. Sarah had come in. A small crease formed between her eyebrows as she worked out what had happened. "Oh. You told him."

"Yes." I turned to Danny. "You can't tell _anyone_. If you do any use the toy Santa might've had will be gone."

"You're the boss." he said. I could tell he didn't like the order. Crud, neither did I. But he would follow it.

"The toy Santa is up." Sarah told me. "Time for you and Curtis to start training him."

...

When I walked in, the Toy Santa(or T.S., as I shall now be calling him) was fully dressed in one of the real Santa's outfits. It didn't feel good to see him settling in.

"He dressed himself. He's a fast learner." Curtis said proudly. Then he saw my expression. "What, you _still_ disapprove?"

I opened my mouth to let loose a sarcastic retort, then stopped myself, remembering Sarah's words.

T.S. looked in the mirror, and said, "I am Santa Claus. Boo!"

"Yeah. I mean, no, no. I think that this is gonna work." I said, awkwardly. "Good..." I looked away, and forced the sentence out. "Good job, Curtis."

He immediately struck down the attempt at friendship. "Would it kill you to give a compliment with your whole heart?" he said. I kept my expression neutral.

"Santa?" Curtis said.

T.S. walked up to him.

"I need you to take a look at this." Curtis held out the Santa Handbook.

"Alright!" said T.S. He looked at it. "Nice." He turned away.

"No, I mean I need you to read it."

"Well, lets try to be specific, shall we?" He took it, glancing over the pages. "Ha ha! I'll take a look at it over at my desk." And to my surprise, he went to said place easily. We slowly followed him.

"How does he know where his desk is?" I asked.

"I programmed him that way. He has most of Santa's memories." Curtis turned to T.S. "Okay, we need you to study _everything_ that's in that book, because it is the key to being Santa."

"Right!" He was studying it with a magnifying glass. "I'll memorize everything in the book! I'll follow all the rules! 'Cause rules are _very_ important."

"I like this guy." Curtis smiled. Then Abby moved past him, carrying a tray with cocoa.

"Hi, Santa!" she said.

"Uh...hi."

She got a full view of his face. "Oh, you look-"

"Like he got a good nights sleep." I interceded pointedly, reminding her of my earlier speech.

"...Like you got a _very _good nights sleep." she confirmed. "How about a nice, chocolatey cocoa?"

T.S. looked to Curtis for guidance. Curtis smiled and nodded. The toy tried to imitate him, mouth dropping in to a ridiculous grin. Abby began to pour. Curtis motioned for him to close his mouth. He did, looking embarrassed, and took the cup.

"Careful. It's hot." Abby warned.

"Well, of course it is." T.S. was watching Curtis mime drinking from a cup. He repeated the gesture, and began chugging down the cocoa at an alarming rate. Abby's mouth dropped open in amazement.

He finished, grinning wildly, arms scrunched near to his body. "AAH!"

Abby jumped.

He put the mug down. "WHOO! That's delicious!"

Abby smiled timidly.

"I _like_ cocoa!" T.S. went on. "Cocoa's superior refreshment! Ha ha ha ha! Get me some more cocoa! WHOO!"

"Right away, Santa." said Abby. I smiled awkwardly as she left. Curtis was looking smug again.

"I think Santa feels a little buzz!" T.S. announced. I nodded, still smiling. On the inside I was groaning.


	12. Maybe

_Disclaimer: The scene with Judy, and the one with Sarah in the TARDIS is all mine, except for the setting and most of the characters. The next scene is Disney's, except for the Sarah bits._

I was looking over Joey's shoulder, drawing a diagram of a new ornament we needed him to make, when the pencil was suddenly snatched from my hand. It was Judy.

"And just how long have you been working?" she asked.

"Not long enough." I said, firmly.

"Bernard, weren't you telling us just last month that overwork caused stress, and stress caused-"

"Sloppy work, yes. However, I have not been overworking."

Joey snorted at that, and tried to pass it off as a cough.

"You've been overdue for a break for three hours now." Judy said, in one of her wiser-than-thou tones. "Let _me_ help Joey with the ornament."

"I'm _really_ not tired-"

"I could always get Dr. Hismus down here, and have him declare you unfit for duty due to weariness."

"Yeah right. You're not serious."

Judy gazed at me sternly. She was serious.

"Alright, alright." I said. "Have it your way."

"Don't I always?" she smiled. I couldn't resist smiling back.

I wandered aimlessly for a while. It was hard to know what to do on breaks, 'cause you always felt this nagging at the back of your head that you were needed at work. Then it occurred to me that I hadn't seen Sarah all day. Where was she, anyway? Her TARDIS had been next to the hospital before. And there it still was. The door was slightly open. I pushed it the rest of the way.

"But the gap between dimensions won't open all the way, you're sure of that?" Sarah was asking as I stepped inside. She was speaking to a monitor that was on top of a sort of control matrix. There was a tube, large and wide, that reached into the ceiling. It held green lights captive inside, and it was in the middle of the matrix. The walls to the control room were beige instead of white, and they felt more..._alive_.

"Quite sure." a man's voice said from the monitor. "The void won't suck me into it anytime soon. So quit worrying, Sarah."

"There are plenty of reasons to worry." she said, quietly. "If I lose you too, I'll...I don't..."

This was probably the first time I had ever seen Sarah look scared.

"Hey, hey." the voice said gently, as if comforting a crying child. "I'm not leaving you. I promise to take care of myself for your sake."

Sarah smiled with amusement, as if the conversation had never turned serious. "See you later, then." She flipped a switch, and the monitor turned off. Then, without looking up, she said,"Hello, Bernard."

"Oh." I said, feeling like I'd been caught after sneaking in."Hello. I hope I'm not intruding..."

"Not at all. I was just having a chat with an old friend." She turned to me, with the air of trying to change the subject. "What can I do for you?"

"Nothing, really. Just wondering what you were up to."

"Ah."

There was a bit of awkward silence. She looked around for something to break the hush. Her gaze went back to the monitor. She seemed to be pondering something, then she turned it on, and said, "Come here for a minute."

I walked up, and peered over her shoulder at it. It showed an icy landscape. At first I thought it was Earth, but rainbows were shining from every ice crystal, and each snowflake seemed to have an individual pattern to it's fall. If you looked hard you'd see that some weren't snowflakes, but extremely tiny dancers. They had blue-white skin, wings that seemed to scatter away into snow dust and instantly regrow, and white, airy dresses and suits. The sun shone pure golden rays. The whole landscape was breathtakingly beautiful.

"What is that place?" I asked in a whisper, as if noise would scare the scenery away.

"That is the planet of the Snowflies." Sarah said, softly. "The third oldest planet in the universe. What do you think?"

"It's...it's..." All the words that same to my mind felt insufficient to describe it.

"I know." Sarah smiled. "I have the same problem. Poems have been written about that place, but none of them ever measure up to actually seeing it."

"Have you ever been there?" I turned my head to face hers. I noticed something about her that I hadn't before. Her golden hair seemed to reflect the TARDIS light in different colors, making shimmers of light around her head. The shimmers were each blue, green, or pink. The artificial light of the Workshop hadn't flattered her alien hair like the TARDIS did.

"No. Not once." She turned her head to face me too. Suddenly I noticed we were quite close. Her voice faltered for a moment as she noticed it too. "Does that surprise you?"

"Not really." I murmured. "Maybe you just needed someone to go with." I felt myself drawing a little closer, and her breath on my mouth.

She looked at me straight, her expression unreadable. "...Maybe."

At that moment, an alarm went off.

Sarah jumped backwards, and looked at the monitor. It showed the time. Three p.m.

"Time for the toy Santa's next training session." she said, quickly. Was that an expression of relief on her face? "Shall we go?"

And she ran out the door.

...

T.S., Sarah(whose shimmers had disappeared, being back in the Pole's lighting), Curtis, and I walked out into the busiest part of the Workshop. T.S. was holding an open copy of the Santa Handbook, which he now carried with him everywhere.

"Santa, I need you to look forward, and put on a smiley face." I said. "Say hello to your elves."

"Ho ho ho! You're all doing a wonderful job!" he shouted to the room at large. A few workers looked up, and smiled at him. Then George, one of our Engineers, walked up to him, carrying a toy car.

"Santa, when you said bigger wheels is this what you meant?" he asked.

T.S. looked at me. I nodded, encouraging him on.

"Ho ho ho!" T.S. shouted again. "You're doing a wonderful job!"

There was a pause of silence.

"Take that as a yes." Sarah suggested.

"Okay." George walked off.

"...You're doing great!" I told T.S. "You could dial it down a little on the 'ho ho ho's, but otherwise, you're gold."

He tried different uses of the 'ho'ing while reading the Handbook. I felt myself relax a little as I turned to Curtis.

"Why don't you just say it?" he asked. " 'You were right, Curtis. I was wrong.' "

"Okay, okay, I admit it." I said, rolling my eyes, but I was holding back a smile. I looked at the elves. "They're happy. They're working hard. Everything's going to be fine." I patted his shoulder. Sarah smiled.

And then T.S. walked up.

"You know, this book is very interesting reading." he said. "There's a lot of rules right here at the North Pole they're not following!"

"That's what _I've_ been saying all along!" said Curtis. "Things have gotten a little too sloppy around here."

I kept myself from raising an eyebrow, instead shifting weight from one foot to the other. Sarah looked wary.

"Yes!" T.S. agreed. "And sloppiness means mistakes, _and mistakes aren't a good thing!_" His head snapped to look at Curtis, and Curtis's snapped to look at me. Sarah stepped forward, as if she might have to defend me.

"I think I might have to make some changes around here." said T.S. He walked away.

"What did you have in mind, boss?" Curtis asked, eagerly following him.

"Let me show you. There's many things. Look here."

"What's this mean?" Sarah asked me.

"Trouble." I said, bluntly.

"How horrible." Sarah said, with a sarcastic smile. "It's not like we've _ever___dealt with that before."

I smiled back, but there was no feeling in it. What exactly did T.S. intend to change?


	13. Down the Rabbit Hole

This time, when I went to visit Sarah, the TARDIS door wasn't open. It was, however, unlocked.

Inside, she was circling the console, occasionally turning a knob or pressing a button. Her black jacket was zipped up, and her hair was in a ponytail, somewhat lessening the field of colorful shimmers.

"Are you going somewhere?" I asked.

"Of course I am." she said. "If I stay in one, unadventurous place for too long I'll go mad."

"Unadventurous?" I said. "You don't mean you actually go looking for near-death situations, do you?"

"Well, frankly, _duh_. All those jaunts I keep telling you about. Do you think I just stumble on to them?"

It was clear she was in a bad mood. Maybe that's the way she confronted all the bad qualities of her life, by getting moody so people wouldn't ask anything else. Well, I had no intention of being scared away.

"If you die on one of these travels you take for fun, other people will die that you could've saved if you were still alive." I persisted.

"Oh, that's nice." she smiled. "You're trying to _logic_ me into being safer. Very Spockian."

"You didn't give me an answer."

She sighed. "That's because I haven't got one."

"Do your friends know the sort of life you're leading? Do Spock and the Captain-"

I stopped, as she raised her hand to her eyes. For a split second I thought she was about to cry, but then the hand came down. She looked so...tired.

"There's no real excuse for my behavior." she said. "But I need adventure and risk right now. It distracts me from...other things."

I stepped forward, reaching, but I had placed my foot at an awkward position. I started to fall, and so pushed out a hand to catch myself. The hand hit the console. More specifically, a lever on the console. The TARDIS doors slammed shut. The alien engine sounded, and the green lights in the tube began to move up and down.

"You'll be able to judge the danger for yourself in a moment." she said. "You just made the TARDIS take off."

I barely had time to register this before we were both thrown across the room. The whole ship was spinning, and shaking violently. With much difficulty, I made my way back to the console, and held it tightly. I'd often wondered what Sarah's adventures were like, but to start off like this, with no idea where we were going or what would be there, was terrifying.

"Can't you take us back?" I asked.

"Well, I suppose I _could_, but where's the fun in that?" she asked with a grin. She was totally in her element, riding in this TARDIS, this wild star. Or at least, that was the impression I got before the ship did another violent turn, and she was thrown forward, the edge of the console hitting her painfully in the stomach. I heard the air go out of her. Then she straightened, and took up a position similar to mine.

"Your ship doesn't give the smoothest ride." I noted.

"It's not her fault. She's meant to be flown by seven Time Lords, not one Time Lady and an elf."

"Does _she_ have a name?"

Sarah looked thoughtful. "Odd. I've never given her one. Huh."

There was one more jolt, then everything stopped moving. Except us. That jolt slammed us both on the floor, on our backs. Sarah laughed.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"...Don't know."

I stood up, and held out my hand. She paused, then took it, and I pulled her to her feet. Sarah turned towards the doors.

"Outside these doors..." she began, and paused, thinking. Then she shrugged. "To heck with the dramatic introduction. Just walk outside."

"On my own?" I asked, nervously.

"I'll be right behind you. Calm down, there shouldn't be any danger out there."

I nodded, and took hold of the handle, feeling the metal against my sweaty palm. My heart beat faster, I opened the door, and stepped out.

"_Freeze!_" a harsh voice yelled at me. I jumped in surprise. There was the sound of several guns cocking. I raised my hands above my head, and realized with embarrassment that they were trembling. The only guns I had seen before belonged to the E.L.F.S, and those never killed, only stunned.

There were about twelve people, men and women, all in black jump-suits, and all with shiny, large, and lethal looking rifles. One woman stood apart from the rest. She was tall, and had her shiny black hair pulled into a tight bun. She was obviously the leader. We had appeared in what looked like a storage compartment. Sarah stepped out behind me. All the guns swivelled to point in her direction. Suddenly, all my fear vanished. My hands fell to my sides, and I moved in front of Sarah to shield her, watching the soldiers warily.

"No needless heroism." she said, putting a hand on my shoulder to gently move me away so she could see the leader. "You remember me, don't you, Ms. Ross? Friend of the doctor's, remember?"

Ms. Ross raised a black eyebrow. "Yes, of course. Lower your weapons."

The soldiers did so.

"In future, you would do better to announce your coming." Ross went on.

"And miss the chance to keep Torchwood on its toes?" Sarah smiled.

Someone moved past the soldiers and Ross. He had on a white jump-suit, with a light green, crescent moon emblazoned on each shoulder. His hair was grey, eyes light blue, and he looked around sixty. There was a sort of...stretched look to him, as if he was past his time, but something kept him going on. But he still stood tall, strong, and independent. All the soldiers made way. It was easy to see they respected this guy a lot.

"Ah." said Sarah. "Bernard, let me introduce you to-"

"There will be time for that later." he said. "Come on. I could use your help." He turned, and walked out of the room. Sarah and I followed, me feeling out of place. The closet opened up onto a white hallway, with so many doors it seemed they had all been crammed into one place. He chose one near the end. It led into another closet sized place, with three silver levers. He said, "Sickbay." and pulled a lever. The doors closed, and the room started to vibrate. I realized we were on an elevator.

"Can I introduce you know?" Sarah asked, wryly.

"I suppose so." he said.

"Bernard, this is Doctor Leonard McCoy."

My eyes widened a little. "You mean, _the_ Doctor?"

"Oh, yes."

"Sarah's told me so much about you." I said, shaking his hand.

"She's told me about you too." he said. "Some interesting stuff, as well."

"Really? What?"

"First, that you're apparently an elf from the North Pole. Second, that she's passionately in love with you."

I kept my mouth from dropping open, but only just. Still, the shock must've shown on my face, because McCoy chuckled.

"You can't be so gullible, son." he said. "Not in a universe like this."

Oh. He'd been pulling my leg. I tried to keep my expression neutral.

"_Well_," said Sarah, blushing. "moving on. I expect you're wondering where we are."

"Yeah, I was wondering when you'd get around to telling me." I said, as the elevator doors opened. Yet another white room, this one fairly large. There was a large copy of the moon on McCoy's shoulders on the ceiling. There were about twenty-five patients, all with nurses fussing over them.

"We are in the 51st century, on a space station orbiting Earth." said Sarah, as we followed McCoy across the room. "The station is owned by Torchwood, a human organization that specializes in defending Earth from aliens. It also works on inventing new...well, _inventions._ Technology assembled from alien devices they've found."

We had stopped walking to stand in front of a patient, lying on a bed. His eyes were tightly closed, and he was muttering quietly to himself. His head was heavily bandaged. There was a bench next to the bed, stacked with odd looking medical supplies. McCoy took one, a silver box with a brass knob, and handed it to me.

"This will keep him stable." said McCoy."Would you hold that over his stomach, and make sure the knob keeps turning?"

"Er, sure, okay." It sounded simple enough. I walked over, and did as he instructed.

"You can help me with the surgery." he told Sarah, as he started taking off the patient's bandages.

"Bernard, don't watch." she said, firmly.

"Yes, ma'am." I kept my eyes looking down. There was a pause of silence while we both worked. Then McCoy asked, "So, what made you decide to travel with Sarah?"

"I didn't." I said. "It was the result of accidental lever pushing and Sarah's whim."

"But you did agree to come, correct?"

"She didn't ask." I couldn't see it, but there was a pause of silence, and I guessed McCoy was glaring at the Time Lady.

"What?" she said.

"You dragged a totally inexperienced novice into a field of danger, and didn't even ask him first?"

"Oh, puh-_lease_," I could practically hear her eyes roll. "Bernard is not totally inexperienced! He helped me bring down Koufax, if you remember. And you call this place the field of danger? It's the most guarded place in this region of the universe. Even Bernard can't get in trouble here."

"Hey!" I said.

"No offense, Bernie. But you do have to admit, if there's any danger at the Pole, it always seems to find you."

"Another thing." said McCoy. "Why didn't you tell Ross you were coming?"

"I like surprising people." she said. "Besides, I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"I'm always happy to see you, but I don't want you getting your head blown off by some surprised soldiers. You're not immortal, you know."

"Okay, _dad_." she said. In written words, it looks like they were fighting, but there was an air of amused affection to the whole thing that made me dismiss that idea.

"I don't remember you nagging this much." she whined.

"Without Jim and Spock around, all my curmudgeon glory is focusing on you." he said.

"Yeah, where are the Captain and Spock?" I asked. "On a mission, or something?"

"You can stop turning, Bernard." Sarah said, as if I hadn't spoken. "We've done all we can for him."

"Will he be alright?" I asked, looking at the patient, whose head was bandaged again.

"That will be up to him." said McCoy, taking back to box, and putting it up.

"What happened to him?"

"He was injured while running away from a dalek."

"Try as I might, there are still a few of the blasted things in the universe." Sarah muttered.

A nurse came up to us. She had blonde hair in a bun, that was pretty, even though it was greying.

"Ah." said Sarah, as she walked up. "Bernard, let me introduce you to Mrs. Christine Spock."

I raised both eyebrows, but before I could ask about her surname, Christine was talking.

"The Trencha are about to arrive." she told McCoy. "General Ross wants you there with the welcome party. She also hinted that Sarah should come too."

Sarah looked at him, somewhat accusingly. "Torchwood is doing business with the _Trencha_?"

"Come on, lets go before we miss them." he said.

The three of us went back to the elevator.

"You can't team up with them." Sarah said, as the doors closed. "They're untrustworthy."

"What makes you think so?" he asked.

"The Time Lords dealt with them before." said Sarah. "The malvo are too prejudiced, and unsatisfiable to settle for anything less than total domination!"

"Um-" I began.

"The malvo are a dwarf race of high technological efficiency. The Trencha are the three queens of the race. Oh, and they consider men to be less intelligent and dependable than women, so watch what you say around them."

"They are interested in our gadgets, and we're interested in theirs, so we're seeing if we can crew up, and share." McCoy said.

"But a few fancy schmancy devices aren't worth the risk of them overpowering you lot!" she said.

"Races change, Sarah." he said.

"Not all of them! It's like how klingons are ferocious by nature, and daleks have no emotion except the hunger to kill. Malvo are incapable of thinking of anyone of another species as an equal."

"It's not my decision that you should be trying to persuade. Ross already knows about their history of treachery, and she's convinced they've changed."

Sarah threw up a hand in defeat, and sighed.

"Remember, don't talk unless they talk to you." McCoy told me."They'll be talking to Ross and Sarah, and will probably assume we're servants, or something."

We went into a room as big as Elfsburg's Safe Place. It was a gallery of alien items. Most were different shaped lumps of metal, with wires sticking out of them, and names like, _The Thalmic Regulator of Bertzillian Three, _or _The Dimension Spulsor of Murgulus _printed on brass plaques_._ Only a few items took recognizable shapes. For example, one appeared to be a giant cat, made of grey stone. Whenever I looked at it I felt really queasy.

"That's a doorstop for people who don't want visitors." Sarah explained. "It manipulates your fear pockets by visual psychic exchange."

I nodded, pretending to know what the heck she was talking about. Ross walked up to us, just as on odd, high-pitched hum filled the room. There were three gold shimmers in the air, and the Trencha appeared. Apparently travel by shimmer was a normal thing, because Sarah didn't look at all fazed.

Each of the aliens were only up to my waist in height. That didn't bother me. I worked with short people all the time. It was their eyes that bothered me. Bright, glowing, and red. When they looked at me, there was contempt, and maybe disgust written plainly in those eyes. Their skin was bright blue, and their hair was thick, brown, and so long its tips brushed the ground. One was dressed in gold-colored clothes, one in silver, and one in bronze.

Sarah and Ross approached them. McCoy and I followed at a discreet distance.

"As a representative of Torchwood, I welcome you to our station." said Ross. The Trencha ignored her, and looked at Sarah. I stepped forward automatically, as if I needed to protect her from their gaze, but McCoy touched my shoulder, reminding me to stay put.

"Who are you?" the one in gold asked.

"I'm Sarah." she said, with an amiable grin. "I'm just a traveler, passing through."

"You are not human."

"Well, neither are you."

"Before we sign any contract, we want to see your assets." the one in silver told Ross.

"Of course. Feel free to look around so."

They did so, each going in different directions. The gold one went for the cat I was standing in front of. I assumed she would go past me, but she just stood there, not moving. Sarah gently pushed me out of the way, and the Trencha walked on.

"In their opinion, they should never have to work to accommodate a man, even just to step around him." Sarah explained. "As much as I would love to persuade them otherwise, in the most violent way possible, Torchwood would never let me return if I ruined their chance at this treaty."

The Trencha had regrouped at the center of the room. It looked the gold and bronze one were having some disagreement with the third one. They headed for the door.

"Please excuse us." the bronze one said to Ross. "We need to talk somewhere else."

"Of course." said Ross, acting too complacent for Sarah's taste. "We'll be here when you've reached your decision."

The aliens nodded, and walked out of the gallery. Sarah and McCoy went to Ross, no doubt to start lecturing her on how it wasn't safe to let the aliens wander. I took this advantage to look around some more. There was a hole, big enough for a man to fall through, at the far left side of the room. Some workers were dumping odd things into it- liquids, papers, devices, etc. Some sort of a pot, and they were throwing in ingredients? I walked up to it, and bent over to see what was inside. It was the opening to a chute, that I couldn't see the bottom of.

"Murrads up!" said a voice behind me. This meant, as I was later to learn, to clear the path to the garbage chute.

A wave of old food, used papers, and other junk crashed into me. I went straight down, through the hole, a lot less dignified than Alice.


	14. Too Late?

_Warning: I think this chapter is rather boring. All my writing juice left me at this point._

My immediate reaction was to yell, but the sound was smothered by the trash. I suppose you could compare going down the chute to going down a long, twisted, and turning slide, except it was darker, more painful because of the junk hitting you, and generally more scary.

I frantically reached out, trying to grab anything that would stop my descent, but the walls were super smooth. My side was banged against painfully, as the tube twisted into another turn. This thing was obviously not built for living transportation. A broken plate hit my head, knocking off my hat. I made a grab for it, but it slipped past my fingers. I'd had that hat since I was little, a gift from my parents. Then I realized Sarah would think I was crazy, worrying about a piece of clothing while plunging to possible death.

Instead of being a slide, it became a plunge. The tube went straight down. I shut my eyes tight, bracing myself for the impact.

Next thing I knew, I was immersed in a pile of stinky, slimy, crunchy trash. From the chest down, I was buried. What I hoped was nothing worse than mushy food squished between my legs. I tried to untangle a broken fork from my curly hair, then gave it up as a lost cause.

Around me was an iron room, as large as a log cabin. There was very dim lighting that seemed to come from nowhere. I was in the futuristic equivalent of a dumpster, with no way to escape.

But there, half buried under a banana peel, was my hat. I grabbed it, and thanked God for small victories.

What was I gonna do? Would Sarah find me? I half-imagined what it would be like for the TARDIS to materialize here. I'd be embarrassed if she had to help dig me out of all this mess.

Then I heard the sound of voices.

"I don't see your problem, Falco." said one. "I think are plan is all the more necessary after what we've seen. The amount of technology they've accumulated...and they don't even know how to use all of it!"

"But they do know how to use _some _of it, and they have too many soldiers for my comfort. Maybe we should rethink this. What if they overpower us?"

I tried to wade a little through the garbage quietly. It was the three Trencha. They sat in a small, cleaned out square, with a lamp between them.

"But I think the traveler is a Time Lady." Falco said, nervously.

"So?"

"_So_, she is obviously friends with these people! I don't want a Time Lady's wrath turning toward's me!"

"It doesn't matter what her race is." said the gold one. "As the other Gallifreyans are dead, we'll only have to worry about her, and the humans will be easy to defeat. You underrate their stupidity."

"But why do we even need to steal Torchwood's technology?" Falco persisted.

"Our own devices are not enough to dominate the most prominent worlds." the bronze one reminded her.

Of all the places to do your secret plotting, why a dumpster? Well, I had to admit, I wouldn't have thought to look here. It was time to call Sarah. I used my hand to shield my fingertips, so when the magic came out it wouldn't shine too brightly. It didn't work. The whole room lit up briefly as the spark shone. I winced, and closed my eyes. _Please have them ignore it. Please..._

When I looked again, I was staring straight into red, glowing eyes. The gold one had climbed up the trash, and was glowering at me. There was a short pause of silence.

"Whatever you do, don't say, _Well, well, well, what have we here?_" I pleaded. "It's too cliché villain."

She blinked, the punched me on the side of the head so hard I felt sure that my skull had cracked.

"You'll speak when spoken to." she growled.

I couldn't see straight. My vision was out of focus from the pain.

"Who is he?"

"He's the friend of the Time Lady."

My vision refocused. The gold one looked thoughtful.

"If we kept him as a hostage, do you think she'd surrender?" she asked.

Falco snorted. "I doubt it. She had too much fire for that."

"Well, we can't leave him alive." said the bronze one. "He'll blab our plan to his girlfriend. Males always blab."

"I agree. We can claim it was an accident." The gold one reached for my throat.

_Think like Sarah._ I ducked down, disappearing amongst the junk. Maybe I could find a weapon, and-

A hand grabbed my shirt, and dragged me out. It must've looked ridiculous, a midget holding a taller person by the collar.

"I've had just about enough of you." she growled in my ear. "_Don't-_" She hit me in the stomach. All the air was knocked out of me. "_try that_-" The next blow fell on my side. I heard a rib crack, and cried out in pain. "_again!_" She slammed me against the wall. I slid down, seeing spots. Understandably, all thoughts of rebellion left me at this point.

"That temper of yours, Madre." Falco chided. "You really must learn to control it."

"Inflicting pain helps me think. And it's just given me an answer to our problem." She turned to the bronze one. "_Think_, Rosharie. Where do trash pods go?"

A slow smile spread across Rosharie's face. "Out." she said, simply.

My body had had enough by this point. My last thoughts before I fell unconscious were, _It's okay. The spark was lit. Sarah will come._

Then I remembered. The glass ball was in the TARDIS, and Sarah wasn't in her ship.

I blacked out.

When I woke up it was dark, quiet, and very smelly. The Trencha were gone, and so was the lamp. The ache was still as strong as before.

The room was vibrating, very gently, but enough to make my rib hurt so I could barely think straught. What was going on?

Rather than contemplate the inner working of a space ship, I tried to think of a way out. If Sarah hadn't come by now, she wasn't coming. It was up to me, then. I could still Come Home. Sarah would be worried, but eventually she'd guess where I was. So I turned my thoughts inwards, looking for that golden light at the back of my head that always brought me safely, and surely, home to the Pole.

But I couldn't reach it.

Either because of my being in space, or all the pain and weakness, my magic wasn't strong enough to teleport.

It was then that panic really started to flourish. Would I stay here till I starved? Or would I slowly suffocate from the endless trash?

Death by trash. I laughed. The intense agony, and thought of death was making me hysterical. _Come on, Bernard, get a grip._ I thought. _If Sarah saw you now she'd think you were pathetic. Besides, you have no reason to worry, right? You can use the litter to build a tower up the chute, and then climb the rest of the way._

But this put forward a new problem. Getting up. The moment I propped myself up on my elbows, the hurt increased so much that the room spun. I waited a moment, panting, for the dizziness to recede, and then started to get up a lot more slowly. The more movement, the more ache, like a rubber band being stretched and stretched till it breaks. Unable to go any further, I fell back down.

The room's vibration was getting more and more violent. Piles of trash were tipping over.

All movement stopped, and it was dead quiet. "Out." the Trencha had said. That meant, that in the 51st century, taking out the trash equaled ejecting the trash pod into the vacuum of space. The air, and everything else, was being sucked out through the chute, and I was next. The vacuum was lifting me off the ground, pulling me away. I reached out, and grabbed the edge of the chute as I passed it. My fingers felt like they would break if I held on much longer. Rubbish flew past. My lungs screamed for air. The room was vibrating again.

Then all the chaos stopped. The vacuum was gone. There was a split second when everything was suspended in the air, and then I fell. I landed on my side. The broken rib jolted upwards, and tore a hole in my lung.

I blacked out for the second time that day.


	15. Painfully Similar

_Disclaimer: From the line, "Well, I think he's learning at an excellent rate!" the dialogue is all Disney's. I do not own the characters, except Sarah, nor do I own Doctor Who, Star Trek, or Santa Clause, but it's on my Christmas list if you want to get it for me._

"_Hello, man."_

_I looked up. It was Madre, dressed in her gold. Beside her were McCoy and Sarah...unquestionably dead._

"_They tried to save you." Madre smiled. "How does it feel, man? Your friends died because of your stupidity. But don't worry. Now you'll join them."_

_She rushed at me, plunging a knife into my chest._

My eyes flew open. I had yelled, and that was what woke me up. Instantly Sarah was beside me, holding my hand.

"It's alright, Bernard." she said. "It's alright. They're gone."

Gradually, my heart beat slowed it's furious pace. I breathed lightly...wait a minute, I was breathing! I looked at my chest. Sitting on the rib that was, or had been broken, was a silver box with blinking green lights. It was about as big as my fist. I reached for it.

"Don't touch it, son." said McCoy. "That's a bertzillian heart-lung machine. While your lung is still healing, the machine pumps oxygen into your bloodstream for you."

I was in Sickbay. For all I knew, this was the same bed the guy we had done surgery on had lain in. The garbage had been cleaned off of me, and I was wearing some sort of hospital robe. I reached a hand to my head.

"We had to cut a little to get the fork out." McCoy smiled ruefully. "Your hair is as difficult as a sheep's wool."

I turned my gaze to Sarah. She withdrew her hand, as if stung. Her face was emotionless, but the quick way she breathed, and her eyes both showed intense franticness and guilt.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"Oh yeah." she smiled. "As if _I'm_ the one who needs comforting." The smile vanished, and her expression became a pleading one. "I'm so sorry, Bernard. Please forgive me. I never should've brought you here. My _stupid_ whim got you into a terrible situation you never should've had to face, and-"

I sat up, despite the discomfort, and looked at Sarah sternly. The silver box was attached to me, so it didn't fall off.

"It is in _no way your fault._" I said, firmly. "If it's anyone's fault it's mine, for being stupid enough to stand in front of a garbage chute."

"Listen to him, Sarah." said McCoy. "Don't you remember your own advice, girl? Like you told Jim, sometime you just can't control these situations."

Sarah was about to argue, so I interrupted. "So, what happened? How did you know I was in the trash pod?"

"Because I knew you were nowhere else." she said, as if it was a very simple matter. "It was easy to remagnetize and reconnect the pod. What wasn't so easy was keeping you alive. Your body is a bit different than what anyone's seen around here. But luckily, the Doctor is the best of his trade on this side of the galaxy."

"And who's the best on the other side?" McCoy asked.

"And the Trencha?" I asked.

They both looked at me blankly.

"What about them?" Sarah asked.

Quickly, I told them all that had happened. She straightened.

"I'll go in the TARDIS." she said. "If I hurry, I can catch them without crossing any personal time lines."

"What about me?" I asked, preparing to jump off the bed. "I want to come!"

There was a soft hiss. McCoy had injected a sedative in my arm.

"No more danger for you." he said. "You need to rest, and concentrate on getting better."

"That's not fair." I muttered, lethargically, falling back into the cushions.

"See you soon, Bernard." said Sarah. She ran out as I fell asleep.

...

McCoy and Sarah were gone by the time I woke up. The silver box was gone too. Everything seemed to be healed. My lungs were having a little trouble expanding fully, but not enough to worry about. I sat up, and at once a nurse headed for me. It was Christine Spock, carrying a brown box.

"Oh. Hello." I said. "Where are my friends?"

"They just got back from chasing some criminals." she said. "They should be here soon. How do you feel?"

"Fine, except for a little tightness in my chest."

"That's only to be expected. Your lung is breaking in the new alveoli. It'll get better soon." She handed me the box. It had my clothes inside, all freshly laundered. I instinctively grabbed the hat.

"There's a bathroom to the left, if you want to change." she said. She started to leave, then turned back. "You're sort of the hero of Torchwood right now. If you hadn't warned us, the Trencha would've gotten away with some of our most valuable equipment."

I stared blankly at her. I didn't feel like a hero. Heroes should do less groveling in pain, and more bashing of villains. But then again, I had survived this whole thing, and had _tried_ to be brave. That had to count for something, right?

When I was finished changing I walked out of the bathroom to find Ross, McCoy, and Sarah waiting for me.

"There, now you look more yourself." said Sarah. "Though I have to admit, the hospital dress look worked for you."

Very maturely, I stuck out my tongue at her.

Ross walked up, and said, stiffly, "As a representative of Torchwood, I offer you our formal thanks." She stuck out her hand, and I shook it, awkwardly. Then Sarah pushed past her.

"That'll do, elf." she said, slipping a casual arm over my shoulder. "That'll do."

I grinned.

"What do you say we get back to the Workshop?" she asked.

"I say, yes!" Space travel was fine and all, but I was still shaken from almost dying, and needed to get to the one place where I knew I'd feel safe. Home.

"Alrightey then." she went to McCoy, and gave him a brief hug. "Take care of yourself, Doctor, for me."

"You go ahead." he told her. "I want a quick word with Bernard."

She looked at us both curiously, then shrugged, and walked off. He stepped closer to me.

"Take care of her." he said. "She takes too many risks for her own good. Keep her from doing anything we'll all regret."

"I'll do my best." I promised.

"I'm glad she has you." he added. "She needs someone there for her, after what happened."

"What do you mean? What happened?"

"Bernard, enough goodbyes." Sarah called from the door. "Lets go." I hurried to catch up. It's a good thing she waited, because I never would have found my way back to the TARDIS through all the confusing hallways. People waved, or patted me on the back as I went by. Apparently everyone had heard what happened.

"I hope this experience hasn't ruined space travel for you." Sarah said, once we were back in the ship. It had taken off, and we were holding tightly to the console.

"This journey wasn't the best example." she went on. "You got a heaping helping of the bad side of travel. The only _real_ good side was seeing McCoy, and you couldn't full appreciate that because you hadn't met him before. But there _are_ places out there worth risking your life to see. If you'd seen all I have, you'd never stay home." She gazed longingly at the console, and for a moment I was scared she was going to lug me off somewhere else to prove her point, but then she sighed. "Don't worry, Bernard. That's the last time I take you through the furies of the Time Vortex." She pressed a few buttons, then looked thoughtful. "Unless, of course, the furies of Elfsburg get bigger."

The TARDIS stopped, and the doors flew open.

Outside business was going on as usual. It was all _exactly_ as I'd left it. Alexander was working on the same plastic dinosaur. Judy was still on the higher level, helping Cindy master her knew position as general assistant. I repressed a shudder.

"I know." Sarah said, from beside me. "It creeped me out at first too. You've gone through time and space, seen things no one would believe, changed from the inside out, yet everything else is exactly the same. They were frozen in time, and weren't even aware that you'd left." She sniffed, then said, "I'm gonna get some cocoa. Wanna join me?"

I grinned. Sarah had gone from ancient Time Lady to casual teenager in a split second.

"No, I have to get back to my job." I said. "See you later."

The average routine of work started to relax me. Everything seemed as it should be.

Wait a minute. What was Michael doing? I stopped him as he walked past.

"Where are you going, Michael?" I asked. Usually he worked in the gift wrapping department.

"Santa reassigned me to coal making." he said, looking unhappy about it. "He said our supply was low stocked."

But we didn't need that much coal, because we barely handed it out anymore. Usually if a kid was bad nowadays we gave him socks. Only the _really_ naughty ones got coal.

"Didn't Curtis have anything to say about this?" I asked.

"He wasn't there, sir."

T.S. was wandering _alone?! _Curtis was supposed to stay with him at all times, to make sure he didn't mess anything up!

"Go back to Wrapping, Michael. If anyone asks, tell them you have my permission."

"Thank you, sir."

I found Curtis and T.S. walking down a hallway. T.S. walked behind Number Two, deeply absorbed in the Santa Handbook, as usual. I walked ahead.

"I hear you've been letting the toy roam the Workshop freely." I said, lightly.

"Oh, yes." said Curtis. "He's been reading the Handbook with admirable determination. I figured he knew the rules well enough to start doing some solo work."

"Knowing the rules is all fine and dandy, but you need past experience too. Besides, some of those directions have been out of practice for decades. He's learning much too slowly for you to put him out on his own like that."

We exited the hallway, and out into the open air, snow crunching underfoot.

"Well, _I_ think he's learning at an excellent rate!" Curtis fumed.

"Oh, really?" My own annoyance was rising.

"Yes."

"This morning he ate a bowl of waxed fruit."

"Wait a minute." said T.S. We stopped walking, and turned to face him.

"I need the Naughty and Nice List." he said.

"No." I said, firmly.

"Oh yes, _yes!_" He brandished the Handbook. "It says I'm supposed to check it twice."

"Santa already checked it."

"No, I didn't."

"The _real_ Santa."

He grinned artificially, like a talk show host. "I _am _the real Santa."

I raised and eyebrow. "I'm sorry?"

He looked at me, straight in the eye. "I'm in charge here."

I felt a little threatened. "What?"

"I'm supposed to check the list twice." he said, still grinning fakely. "That's the rule! I like the rules. I think you're aware of how I feel about that."

It was as if he was telling me to back off.

"I think you're misunderstanding something." I said, trying to assert myself and not start a fight at the same time, and succeeding at neither.

"No, _I'm_ the rule maker." he said, louder than before. "I like the rules. Santa likes the rules! I thought I-"

"I've got a good idea!" Curtis broke in. "How 'bout we have some fun?"

"Huh?" said T.S.

"It's good to have fun."

I saw what Curtis was trying to do, stopping an argument, so I tried to go along. On the playing field Phillip, Joey, and some others were warming up.

"Right. Santa," I said the name awkwardly, cause it felt like a retreat to call him that."look over there. See those elves?"

T.S. looked at them, as if observing a science experiment.

"Go ahead." I encouraged. "Go play some tinsel football."

"Break!" Phillip called. The team began to organize themselves into a game formation.

"What's the object of this 'tinsel football'?" T.S. asked.

"Come on down." Curtis said. T.S. leaned down low to talk to him.

"If you don't have the ball, get it." Number Two said, conspiratorially. "If you have the ball, run to the end zone." He smiled encouragingly.

"Okay." said T.S. "I'll go get the football." He handed Curtis the Handbook, and started walking towards the players.

"Ready-hike!" Phillip called. He tossed the ball to George, who caught it smoothly, and then was suddenly and violently tackled by T.S. The toy stood back up, holding the ball, while George lay on the ground, wincing in pain. The smile faded from Curtis's face.

"I've got the ball! What are you gonna do? Who's gonna stop me?" T.S. taunted. "Come on!"

The elves hesitated, looking wary, then they charged.

"This is a lot of fun!" T.S. commented. As each elf came forward, he pushed them roughly aside. Each fell, hitting against the ground painfully. Curtis was wincing. My hands flew to my head in distress. He knocked aside another one, who groaned in pain.

"Oh, _so sorry_." he said, mockingly. Another elf dove in front of him, trying to trip the toy. T.S. stepped forward, trod on the elf, who groaned, and walked on. Joey was the only one left. He stood there, pale and scared.

T.S. held out a hand, and beckoned him forward, plastic finger squeaking with the movement.

Joey ran away as fast as his pointy-toed shoes could carry him.

"Aw, you come here!" T.S. shouted. He abandoned the ball, and ran after him. "Stop, stop! Slow down when I'm talking to you!"

Curtis and I watched him run past with twin expressions of shock on our faces. Joey ran up some stairs, and when they both reached the top T.S. made a wild tackle, barely missing the elf. Joey escaped, and the toy lay on the floor. I went at once to the fallen elves left on the field. They were just beginning to stir.

"Are you alright?" I asked George, looking him over.

"Just a bit sore." he assured me.

"All of you, go get Dr. Hismus to check you over." I ordered.

So, T.S. didn't know the difference between pain and fun. A lot like Sarah.


	16. Presentless Christmas?

I remember being in a very bad mood. Frustration, anger, worry, and guilt all rolled into one. That, and Curtis beside me, muttering, "It couldn't possibly be the result of my work. Someone must've tampered with the pantograph." was adding annoyance on top of the pile. I saw Sarah up ahead, chatting casually with Cindy. Cutting to the chase, I took her by the shoulder.

"We need to talk." I said, sternly. She looked at my hand, and I quickly withdrew it.

"Sure." she said, evenly. "About what?"

I looked pointedly at Cindy.

"I'll just go help Kim out." said the elf, walking away.

Hastily and straightforwardly, I told Sarah what T.S. had done. She looked appropriately alarmed, and turned to Curtis.

"Didn't you add a compassion spiral to your invention?" she asked.

"Of course I did!" he said, looking offended. "I'm not dumb!"

She rubbed her temples, and started walking. We followed, hoping for one of her miracle solutions.

"Don't understand it." she muttered. "The toy is acting as if only the events that happened since he was created are effecting his judgement."

Curtis stopped dead in his tracks. "_Oh._"

She spun around to face him. "What is it?"

He blushed. "I might've, possibly forgotten to add a compassion circuit that works with the input memories."

I groaned, and lifted a hand to my face. T.S. had no emotional connection to Scott Calvin's memories, so he didn't love or respect other beings like he should. He'd see the elves merely as workers to be used at his disposal. I started walking again, nervous energy not letting me keep still.

"Can't you fix him?" I asked Sarah.

"No way. The slightest bit of tampering would make him go completely haywire."

"He's _already_ haywire!" I snapped, making her jump. We had entered a new, very busy room. I looked ahead. There was T.S., next to the large, steel globe, carrying the Handbook.

"Curtis," I said, sharply. "what is he doing in the Naughty and Nice Center?"

Number Two shrugged, and lifted his hands. It was a perfect imitation of me. I stomped up to face the toy.

"What's going on here?" I demanded.

"Well, I'm checking the Naughty/Nice List." he said, cheerfully, ignoring my anger."Actually, I'm checking it twice."

"_I already told you_-" I began, loudly, but then saw Number Two's expression, and continued in a quieter tone. "-its been checked. Don't worry about it."

"Well, I _do_ worry about it! There's a lot of mistakes on this list! I'll give you a big, fat-"he leaned forward, glaring at me. "-_for instance!_" He leaned back. "In Denmark there's a guy named Sven Hallstrom." He pointed out a spot on the globe, sharply. "Right here. He's a Dane. Apparently he was wiping his nose on his sister's shirt. _Yuck! That's not very nice!_ And yet, he's on the Nice List."

T.S. had never talked like this before. When he disagreed, he had always said so vaguely, but now he seemed ready to explode.

"We try to cut the children a little bit of slack this time of year." Curtis said, amiably.

"After all, it is the Season of Forgiveness." Sarah added.

"I don't understand that!" said T.S., his voice rising with every sentence. "It looks like kids are misbehaving everywhere! They're running with scissors! They're _always _sticky! 'I'm not gonna stop this car! No, we're not there yet! Brush your teeth!" he punctuated the next word with a finger in my face, making me jump. "_Pick_ up those clothes!'" He seemed to wilt from weariness. "It goes on and on."

"But they're just kids." I pleaded. "Everyone misbehaves sometimes!"

"And 'nice' doesn't necessarily mean 'perfect.'" said Sarah.

"But according to the Santa Handbook," he brandished said book in her face. "Naughty kids get lumps of coal in their stockings, right? And if they don't have stockings, we will _make_ them stockings! In my little, personal opinion, I think they should _all_ get coal in their stockings, don't you?"

"No!" said Curtis, frustratedly. "That's not how it works!"

"Get me the Naughty/Nice List!" T.S. ordered. "Get me every list! _Get me everything!"_

And he stormed off.


	17. A Little Rebellion

Curtis stared at me in disbelief and worry. Somehow, the fact that even _he_, who had been so proud of his creation, knew there was something dreadfully wrong with the T.S. invoked a feeling of protectiveness in me. The toy obviously wasn't suitable, so I was in charge of the Workshop, and I had to do something.

"Will you tell the worker's he's a fake?" Curtis asked in a whisper.

"No." I whispered back. "Santa left him here, so we might as well make full use of him."

"And the children?" Sarah asked.

"I'm working on that." I rubbed my forehead in thought. When I looked up she was staring at me with amused/bemused expression. "What?"

"Is that your 'planning' look?" she asked.

"You should see yours." I replied in the same playful tone. "Looks like you're feeling something crawling between your ears." The lightened mood helped me relax a little, and I got an idea. "Hey, have you seen Danny?"

"Yeah. Follow me."

She led us up and out of Elfsburg, through the hatch, and into the open air. A dark sky greeted us, the Northern Lights dancing. We found Danny looking over the edge of a pit. _The_ pit. My jaw went taut, and I stiffened as unpleasant memories came flooding back. Sarah sent me a brief, concerned glance. Curtis's expression was blank.

"What are you looking at that for?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

"Trying to determine what species made it." said Danny. "It's like nothing I've ever seen before. Definitely not an elfin design."

"Told yah." I teased Sarah. Then we quickly filled the E.L.F.S. agent in on the recent events.

"So, Danny, you need to clear everyone out of the coal mines, and make sure no one goes in." I said. "There's no way they can enter. Not after that cave in."

"What cave in?"

"Oh, you know! The cave in that happened when one of your agent's jet pack accidentally backfired, tipping over a large boulder."

"But no jet- Oh!" he smiled. "I'll just tell "Santa" we sadly won't be able to meet his demands."

I turned to Sarah. "How's that for a plan?"

She sighed. "It'll do."


	18. Epiphany

_Disclaimer: All dialogue, except when people are talking or reacting to Sarah, belongs to Disney._

After the sabotage had been completed I didn't see the T.S. Not for the rest of the day, and not the day after.

'_Probably busy trying to clean out the coal mines before the big day.' _I thought, with a smirk. '_Yeah, good luck on that._' But the smug attitude wasn't really there. I was trying to reassure my self that he wasn't up to any trouble, but as another day passed, and still no sight of him, my suspicions grew.

I patrolled the busiest part of the Workshop. Judy went by, muttering something about being short on toy soldiers. I saw a flash of gold hair, and caught Sarah by the elbow before she ran past.

"Hey," I said. "have you seen the toy Santa anywhere?"

Her blue eyes looked at me sharply. "How long has it been since you've seen him?"

"Three days."

"He's planning something." she said, with dead certainty. "I was just checking out the pantograph. It has been set to enlarge and to implant _this_-" she held up a computer chip so small I could barely see it. "-into something."

"What does the chip do?"

"It's not like any design I've seen before. I need to study it. Call me the moment you catch sight of that clone." She was halfway across the room before I could get out a word.

Abruptly, the noise coming from the conveyer belts stacked with toys stopped. Everyone looked to the higher levels, where the controls were, to see who had turned them off.

"Stop the work, please!" a voice called down. "Everybody, stop the work." My eyes found who was speaking. T.S., wearing a plastic smile, and an army commander's uniform. There was a tense silence as everyone stared at him. What was he doing? Playing Nazi?

"I have a little announcement to make." he declared. "From this moment forward we're not going to make anymore toys!"

The elves blanched, and let out horrified cries of, "_No toys?!_" It was as if he had said, 'From this moment forward, we're not going to breath!'

"The children of the world don't deserve these presents." he went on, ignoring our reactions. "So, for this Christmas, we're going to give those greedy, selfish, little kids _exactly_ what they deserve." He went to a large, lumpy, velvet bag that lay on the floor beside him, and took out what appeared to be a lump of black rock. "A beautiful, high quality, yet low sulfur variety of _coal_!"

The room filled with the voices of outraged listeners. Cindy turned to me with a questioning look. Guilt was making itself known in me.

'_If T.S. does anything crazy, it's your fault._' an annoying little voice said in my head.

I put my arm on one of their shoulders.

"Find Sarah." I told him. "We need to-"

A look of pure rage dominated T.S.'s face. "**QUIET!**" he bellowed. Everyone stared at him, gaping.

"We need to focus, all of us, on the goals ahead." he said, showing all his teeth in a grin that made me sick to my stomach. I looked straight at him with a glare of pure defiance.

'_You'll never get us to do it._' my look said. He caught my glance, and said, as if in reply, "And just to make sure that that happens..." He went back to the velvet bag, and took out a fog horn. T.S. laughed, a sound that sent tremors down our spines. "I- I hate to blow my own horn." Looking back at me, he pressed the button. Our delicate ears ached with the loud blare that came out. Doors flew open all around. Instantly, the elves nearest to the doors began to scream. I tried to see what was happening, but the crowd was in my way. There was the sound of heavy footsteps that were all marching to the same beat. I could see where they were coming from, because the workers were running desperately away from the spots. Then they came into view. Giant toy soldiers, each easily three times the size of a normal elf. Their expressions were painted on, ones of fierce glee that never changed. They knocked aside anyone who got in their way. I felt a surge of protectiveness so intense it made m dizzy. A panicking worker almost ran into the path of the plastic monsters.

"Stay where you are!" I shouted to those like him. "Don't be afraid!"

Curtis was holding out his arms, pushing those nearest away from the soldier's path. "Back, back, back!" he ordered. Across the room, Sarah was doing something similar.

"I was up late, couldn't sleep." T.S. was saying, casually. "Milk wouldn't do it, cocoa was a little sweet, so I decided to make an army of toy soldiers."

The monsters were coming to a halt. They were everywhere, and there were _so_ many.

"They don't have a good sense of humor like me." said T.S., still acting as if he was merely introducing us to a new friend. A soldier was lifting Danny into the air by his collar for trying to fight.

Joey turned to me. "How could Santa do this?"

'_Because he isn't Santa!_' I thought. That truth should've been told a long time ago.

'_Liar, liar, you are a liar._' the voice was chanting. Everyone I loved, everyone who it was my responsibility to protect, was in danger, and it was completely my fault!

"I would do what they ask you," T.S. smile turned into a snarl. "which is pretty _what I'm going to tell you!_"

"_Don't listen to him!_" an agonized voice cried. I realized it was mine. "_This guy's not Santa!_"

They were all shocked. "Not Santa?!" T.S. was glaring at me, but I didn't care. Now that I had started, I was determined to get the truth out.

"He's a toy!_"_ I went on. "He's got a rubber face, and a plastic-_"_

"Bernard, behind you!" Sarah yelled.

I spun around only to run into a soldier. Two of them were closing in on me

"Trust me!" They were grabbing me from either side, pulling me down, arms too strong to fight. I cast one last pleading glance at the elves, and they stared back. "_Don't let him ruin Christmas!_"

One of the plastic hands came crashing down on my head, and everything went black.


	19. A Slow Escape

_Disclaimer: All dialogue, except when people are talking or reacting to Sarah, belongs to Disney._

I opened my eyes. Or I thought I had. It seemed just as dark with them open. Was I in the pit again? My breathing became louder, and harsher.

"Calm down." I couldn't see her, but knew it was Sarah. "It's perfectly alri-" she stopped, and laughed. "Okay, it's not alright. But you're not in any immediate danger."

I sat up, and let a spark of magic illuminate my fingertip. We were in the pantograph room, alone, and the doors were all closed.

"Are they-"

"Locked?" she said. She was by the machine, working at the controls. "Yes. With mechanical sock monkeys. We're under _house arrest,_ Bernard." she grinned. "Isn't that quaint?"

I didn't answer. Memories were flooding back. "Oh, my g-...The elves! Are they okay? Did he hurt them?"

"They're okay." she said. Then added, as an afterthought. "Well, physically, they're okay. And they'll continue to be so if they keep following orders. Stand up, slowly, and go press you ear to the door."

I stood, and became violently dizzy. Sarah caught me by the arm as I started to fall.

"Did I not say _slowly_?" she said. "You've got a lump on the back of your head as large as a golf ball. Probably have a concussion. By the way, I'm sorry about that." She lifted a hand, and massaged her scalp. "I would've helped you, but one of them had me pretty good by the hair."

"It's alright. Even if they hadn't got you, you couldn't have stopped them."

She let me go. "You'd be surprised. Now go listen."

Taking care to walk slowly, I went to the doors and did so. Sounded like metal hitting rock. Hundreds of hammers pounding on coal.

"_Dashing through the snow_," T.S. was singing. "_in a strip mining machine. Flatten the hills we go..._Come on! Put a smile on that face, little troll! Hey, I got a little joke, just to cheer you up. Knock, knock."

"Who's there?" From Phillip's voice, it was apparent that he didn't care what the answer was, but was afraid that if he didn't ask he'd be punished.

T.S. chuckled. "Aren'tcha."

"Aren'tcha who?"

"Aren't you supposed to get **BACK TO WORK?! ALL OF YOU, YOU LITTLE IDIOTS! BACK. TO. WORK!**"

I'd heard enough. Stepping back, I shared a look with Sarah that said all.

"Yeah." she said, simply, wincing briefly.

"Can't you do something?"

"I was just waiting for you to wake up before I got started. I can get us out of this room, and take out some soldiers, but only one at a time."

Meaning she'd be dead before she could take out them all.

"Where are our police?" I asked. "The E.L.F.S.? Danny?"

"Locked up somewhere, same as us. And before you ask, all the E.L.F.S. equipment is locked up too, with soldiers patrolling its room."

"If we can just get _one_ jet pack, we can send someone to get Santa."

"And in the meantime, we prepare for battle."

"Not until Santa arrives."

"Why wait?"

I felt awkward. "Well, we'll need a responsible leader for something this big."

"And, what? You don't consider yourself responsible anymore?"

"Can it be done, or not?"

"Oy, hold your horses, Bernie! I'll do it." she took out what looked like a small, silver stick from her pocket. "It'll take a while." She knelt by the door, stuck the stick in the lock, and started tinkering.

"Shouldn't we wait till nightfall?" I asked.

"By the time I'm done, it _will_ be nightfall."

"It's times like these that we could use Spock, eh?"

I had meant the words to lighten the mood. She had told me what a technical genius the Vulcan was. But at his name, her brow furrowed.

"Yeah." she muttered, not looking away from the lock.

There was a moment's silence, as I contemplated whether it was any of my business to ask, and then whether I had the bravery to ask it.

"What happened?"

"You'll have to be a little less vague than that, Bernard."

"With the Captain and Spock. Every time they're mentioned you sort of lock up. Did you three have an argument?"

"No. We just...I...I just haven't seen them for a long time, okay?"

She was getting snappish, obviously, but I didn't have enough sense of self preservation to drop the subject.

"Why not?"

"I have my own job! I can't be looking in on them every five seconds! I'm not their babysitter! Now, will you _please_ be quiet so I can work on this?!" She shot me a glare out of the corner of her eye. _If looks could kill..._

"Sorry." I muttered, backing up.


	20. Cheating

A period of silence followed, where Sarah worked intensely, and I thought, guessing a lot. During the whole time the spark on my fingertips kept the door illuminated. Meaning about half my magic supply was used up by the time she was done.

"Right!" she pocketed her device, and brought out a different one. She looked me over, and said, "You'd better stay here."

"Well, tough."

"I'm not asking you to stay out of concern. I'm being practical. You won't be that useful with a mild concussion."

"_That_ useful. Meaning I may still be of some use."

"You cannot help me!"

"You don't know that!"

We had a short glaring match, which I would've lost if it had continued much longer. Time Lady eyes are very intimidating.

"Those are my people out there." I said, simply.

"Yeah." Her eyes softened.

"What do we do first?"

She started fiddling with the buttons on her gadget. "_You_ run out there."

"By myself?"

"By yourself. And don't trip."

I shrugged, trying to adopt the same casual tone. "Right, then." Gathering my wits, I flung open the doors, and ran out there.

I'd barely gone three steps when something grabbed me by the elbow, and spun me around to face it.

It was, of course, a toy soldier, grinning fiercely, plastic-ly, and above all unnerving-ly. One plastic hand kept me in place while the other rose, then came crashing down on my head. Or, that was clearly its intent, but the plan was foiled by the guard's head falling off. Then its arms. Then its torso. Only the plastic legs were left standing.

Sarah blew at her device, as if blowing smoke from a gun.

"I think you cut it too close." I whispered. She put an arm around my shoulders, tugging me along.

"You can never cut it too close, as long as you're not late. Makes it more fun." I've noticed this seems to be her life philosophy. "Now be a good elf, and go peek around that corner while I recharge this thing."

I peeked. No elves in sight, but a few soldiers guarding select doors. The tables and conveyer belts, instead of shining toys, were filled with...well, you know. Also, lots of hammers and coal dust lay messily on the floor. My people's expertise had left with their spirit. I looked for facts that Sarah would want to know, and returned.

"How many?" she asked.

"Twenty-six. One's standing by a large, brass bell."

"An alarm, of course, in case someone is about who shouldn't be." If that thing was rung, we'd be facing a lot more soldiers than twenty-six, I guessed. She ran her fingers through her hair, thinking. Her other hand went into her pocket, and came out with a pair of dice. She looked at me.

"I need a slingshot." she said.

"Wait a moment." I stepped around the plastic soldier's legs, and went back in, relighting my fingertips. It was so weird for the pantograph lab to be empty. Usually it was abuzz with workers, doing complicated things with our technology, while chatting casually with each other. A scene worthy of a Christmas card, but somehow it never seemed corny to us. Pushing the sentimental thoughts to the back of my head, I grabbed a rope, and a slingshot(which was luckily up next for mass reproduction), and headed back out.

"Why the rope?" she asked, taking the slingshot.

"You _always_ need rope."

"Sure."she said, bemused. "How fast can you climb?"

"Pretty quickly."

"Are you certain?"

"Yeah. Have to climb to reach tools on the high shelf all the time."

"I trust your magic isn't so exhausted that you can't summon the Rose Suchac Ladder?"

"You trust right."

"Then on my signal, summon it and climb to the higher levels."

"Even if I'm fast, won't they see me?"

"Probably." she conceded, loading the slingshot with on of the dice. "Unless there's a distraction."

"Like?"

She lifted an eyebrow, and turned towards the bell.

"If you hit that they'll be all over us in a moment!" I protested.

"Seems that way, doesn't it? Now, get ready." She lifted her arm, aiming. I grabbed her wrist.

She rolled her eyes. "What, do you think I'm trying to kill myself?"

My grip tightened.

She looked angry, then hurt, then at me. "Let me rephrase that. Do you think I'd put you in danger?"

I let go. She shot. The resulting clang echoed loudly through the room. All the soldiers moved at once.

"Go, Bernard."

"But-"

"Gosh, you're not used to taking orders, are you? _Go!"_

The tone of her voice said that if I stayed there, it was her I'd have to be scared of, not the soldiers, and I believed it. I snapped my fingers, the Ladder appeared, and I went up it. The stomping footsteps were almost as loud as the bell. The Ladder started vibrating. They were following me. My near panic made me clumsy. My grip was weak when I put all my weight on it, slipped, fell down a few bars before I grabbed one. As I started to reach the top, it vibrated more than before. When I reached the higher level, I grabbed the top of the Ladder, and prepared to toss it to the side.

"Easy, elf!"

Of course, it was Sarah. She got up beside me, and the R.S.L. disappeared.

"What about the soldiers?" I asked.

She shrugged. "What about them?"

I looked back towards the bell. All of them were surrounding it, looking at the one who had been in charge of it in the first place. Instead of looking for the reason themselves, they'd gone to ask him why he'd rung it.

"How'd you know they would react that way?" I asked.

"Like creator, like creation. They think like the Toy Santa. Mr. T.S. was always trying to undermine the nearest authority figure, you, to give himself more power. Likewise, when these soldiers saw a chance to perhaps get themselves a promotion by making their General look bad, they took it. Now, do you remember which doors they were guarding?"


	21. Teaming Up

The first door had been doubly guarded. I quickened my pace, having a strong hunch who we'd find behind it. Sarah knelt by the lock, and started working at it.

"How long will this take?" I asked in a whisper. The monkey lock dropped off. Apparently it was easier to deal with these things on the outside. She nudged the door open with her foot.

"Follow me in only when I call." she said, and went in. Almost at once, I heard my name hissed. There was no soldier inside. Well, yes there was. But he was for us. Danny's arms were bound behind his back, and his ankles were tied together. It seemed he was considered more dangerous than us, which showed how little they knew about Sarah. Danny had a nasty looking cut on his head, and wasn't moving. I felt bile rising in my throat. "He's not..."

"Stay by the door, and listen for footsteps." she said, taking off her coat. She stepped over, untied him, and ripped off one of her white sleeves to make a bandage. When she lifted his head to tie it, he stirred.

"Danny!" Forgetting Sarah's orders, I went to kneel beside him.

"Hey, boss." he said, smiling casually, but it was clear he was still in pain. "How'd you get here? Did you beat them without me?"

"Don't try to talk." I said.

"Unfortunately, no." Sarah answered him, briskly. "We're trying to send a messenger off to the Fat Man, and I need you to show us where they've locked up the jet packs."

"You can't have him walking around!" I said. "He probably has a concussion-"

"Didn't stop _you_ from walking around."

"He's lost a lot of blood-"

"You're being a father." she said, sharply. "What we need is a leader." She looked down at the Captain. "Danny, no one's forcing you to do this, but I could really use your help."

"I know." he said. "I'll do it."

I frowned, and he noticed.

"It _is_ my duty, boss." he pointed out.

"Come on, Bernie, help me sit him up."

I lifted one shoulder, she lifted the other. We did it slowly, but he still winced. I got a hand under his arm to help him stand.

"Wait a minute." she said. "He's dizzy....Okay, now."

When we got him to his feet he breathed harshly for a few moments, and leaned heavily on us.

"We don't have long." Sarah urged.

I glared at her, but Danny straightened up.

"Good soldier." she smiled. "Excuse me for a moment." Leaving the Captain supporting to me, she circled the room. "The toy soldiers will be back in place by now. Is there any other way to get out of here besides the front door?"

"That window leads to the kitchen." he said. "But it's locked."

"Mechanical sock monkey lock?"

"No, it's regular."

She didn't even have to use one of her gadgets this time. Just a lock-pick.

"Can you climb through that?" she asked.

"I think so." he said. "The kitchen floor is a bit of a drop, though."

"I'll go first, then. Bernard can help you through, and I'll be waiting to catch." She bounded through, and there was a soft thud as she landed.

"M'kay, toss me a Captain." she called.

I did, and there was a sound of grunting as she caught him.

"Gosh, you're fatter than you look." she said.

"That's muscle."

"Right. Not conceited at all, then?"

"You coming, boss?"

A whirl of air, a sharp pain in the foot, and I was down.

"You should've looked where you were landing." Sarah said, unsympathetically.

"Foot broken?" Danny asked.

"Stubbed toe." I said.

Half-made gingerbread housed lay on the tables. The cooks had been drafted for coal work in the middle of their art.

"Where do these doors lead?" Sarah asked, gesturing around.

"One goes to the Common Room-" I began.

"Yeah, I'm not an elf. Where's that?"

"The biggest room, where most of the toy-making goes on."

"Right-o. And the others?"

"One to the experimental department, one to the meeting place, and one to Santa's room."

"Yeah, it figures Santa would be right next to the food supply." she said. "Lets go to the meeting place."

I pointed out the door.

"How long will that lock take?" asked Danny. She rolled her eyes at him, and kicked the knob, hard. The door sprang open. Curtis jumped up from his seat, and dropped something small, and plastic.

"What are you doing here?" he and I asked at once.

"Now, we can either stay here for all eternity, at a never-ending jinx," said Sarah. "or use logic to point out that there are more people in-the-know about Bernard's whereabouts than-"

"A.K.A.," Danny said. "you go first, Curtis."

Number Two pointed to a box on the meeting table.

"It's full of toy soldiers, as they were before enlargement and intelligence." he said, snootily. "I'm looking them over, trying to find a weak spot."

"Good man." said Sarah.

"No." I said. "From what you knew, you were the only authority figure that wasn't unavailable, and you just decide to go out and risk being caught by the guards-"

"Oh, shut up, Bernie." she said, whapping me on the arm. "It's a risk you and I would take in a heartbeat, and you know it."

She was right, of course, but that only made me grumpier.

"How'd you get out?" Curtis asked, his tone making it evident that I could've stayed there for all he cared.

"That's not important now." said Sarah, walking across the room, to the other door, with _another_ lock. I was beginning to grow sick of the things. "Where-"

"Hallway." I said.

"And then-"

"Bedrooms."

"So-"

"E.L.F.S. jet-packs are in the girl's bathroom." said Danny.

"Why there?"

"Only one entrance."

"How many guards?"

"Two."

"That's _it_?"

"Two are enough." Danny said, grimly, picking at his bandage.

"Not for me, they aren't." she said. "Hey, Bernard. Got any ideas on how we can split them up?"

I frowned. "Yeah, I've got a few."


	22. Harvey

_Author's Note: Sorry about the late arrival of this installment. *glares at muse. Muse ignores*_

"You sure this'll work?"

"Bernard, it was _your _idea."

"Yeah, but I'm not the one making him."

"Can't we make several-"

"No, Curtis, it would take too long. Besides, I'm not even sure this one'll turn out alright."

"He spooks me out."

"You all keep saying it's a 'he'. It might be a 'she' with short hair."

"All the soldiers are more brain than brawn. Girls aren't like that, Sarah."

"Suck up."

"Shut up, Curtis."

As you might've guessed, we were back in the pantograph room. We'd informed Judy of our plans as we passed, just so that someone would know what had happened if the event went badly. We'd taken one of Curtis's mini soldiers, and enlarged him. Sarah had made a few adjustments to his chip, and now we had one of the hunks of plastic on our side.

"Hand me that rope." said Sarah.

"Told yah we would need it." I said, smugly. She stuck her tongue out at me, and tied Curtis, Danny, and my hands together. Danny could walk now, as long as we kept the pace slow. She put the end of the rope in our soldier's hand.

"How come _you_ don't have to play captive?" Curtis asked.

"Because _I'm_ a Time Lady." she said, snootily. "Besides, it will be better if I direct Harvey from afar."

"Harvey?" I asked.

"That's what I've decided to call him." she said, thumping our soldier on the chest. "If there's any trouble, don't worry. I'll be right behind you."

"About three yards behind you." I said, dryly.

"I'm a fast runner. See you soon."

And we started walking, me in front, "Harvey" in back.It was weird to move so freely around the Workshop when we had had to climb through every nook and cranny to get anywhere before. Now the guards would only stare at us curiously as we passed. It was still a scary experience. My heart wasn't the only one that was racing(or at least that was what I told myself so I didn't feel like a coward). Every time a guard's head turned abruptly our way I felt like ice had been shoved into my stomach. Despite my paranoia, we reached the girl's bathroom without incident. And there, as Danny had promised, were the two guards before the door.

We came to a stop. One of them marched over to talk to Harvey. Judging by Sarah's explanation(which had been filled with so much technical jargon that even I had problems understanding it) the soldiers could communicate by thought, because all of their chips were connected. Harvey, by her orders, would be saying something like this:"I caught these minions trying to escape the city. I require one of you to show me where they are to be locked up."

The other's response would be easy to predict, because their thought patterns were stored in the chip Sarah had analyzed. "It is not logical that two should go to replace the minions, leaving only one to defend the jet-packs. You shall remain here, and I shall escort the prisoners back."

The rope switched hands, and the new guy marched off, making us run to keep up with him. We rounded a corner, and jogged two yards. Danny collapsed from the extra strain. The new guy would've happily dragged him on, but we all stopped to help the Captain. The soldier jerked me away from the concerned huddle, and raised a plastic hand above my head. The message in his eyes was clear. '_Get moving, or he gets it._'

It was now or never.

I looked up. So did the others. So did the new guy. A small, metal, blinking cone was shoved into his face from above, and he fell apart. Sarah jumped down from the Rose Suchac Ladder, tucking her device back into her belt.

"That was cutting it close." Curtis said, sourly. Sarah opened her mouth, but I beat her to the punch.

"You can _never_ cut it too close." I said. She smiled, and patted me on the head.

"There's a good elf." she said. "Now, untie yourselves. The knots are loose."

We did so.

"What about the other guard?" Curtis asked.

Sarah rolled her eyes at him, and jerked her head, signalling us to follow. The other guard, of course, was now a heap of plastic at Harvey's feet.

"How do we know that the busted guard isn't Harvey?" Curtis asked.

Sarah sighed. "Never satisfied, is he?" she asked me.

"It's a legititmate point." I hated to admit.

"Harvey, open the door." Sarah ordered.

He did so.

"Satisfied?" she asked. Not waiting for an answer, she went in. I followed hesistantly, supporting Danny.

I'm nearly two thousand years old, yes, but I had an immature curiousity about the girl's bathroom like an three hundred year old elf boy. The color scheme was red and green, a mini chandelier hung from the ceiling, and a small table was near the sinks with a self-refilling bowl of fruit. I personally don't see the point in making a bathroom look nice. I mean, it isn't used for something pretty.

But back to the mission. All of the stalls were closed. At the end of the room were the E.L.F.S. jet-packs, piled in a heap. I heard clunking footsteps coming from behind us. Apparently Harvey had decided to come along.

"So..." Curtis said, as we moved. "Which of us is gonna fly off?"

"Well, Danny is obviously in no condition to do any such thing." Sarah said. "The only other person who's had experience flying one of those things is Bernard-"

"I'm not leaving the elves." I said, firmly.

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic, Bernie." she said. "I didn't really expect you to go."

"How about you, Sarah?" asked Danny.

"I'm not leaving either." she said, firmly.

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic, Sarah." I said. "He didn't really expect-"

"Doesn't take long for your sarcastic wit to get old, Bernie."

"Why are you two always at each other's throats?" asked Curtis.

"Probably in love." Danny told him, casually.

"Shut up!" Sarah and I snapped together.

"Captain..." Curtis said, hesitantly.

"I know." Danny said. "I've noticed it too. Either Harvey just got several pounds heavier, or-"

We turned around in unison. The stalls we had passed were open, and soldiers were marching out. Then the stalls between us and the equipment opened, and bad guys flowed out of there too. Soon, we were surrounded.

"Nice reconnaissance, Captain." she said, dryly. Then she raised her hands. "We surrender."

"_What?!_" I said. I had been ready to dash for the fruit table, and use it as a weapon, but she'd stepped in front of me. The words 'Sarah' and 'surrender' didn't seem to belong in the same sentence. She put a hand on Curtis's shoulder.

"We'll go back to our rooms willingly." she said. "There's no need for violence-" With an abrupt movement she picked up Curtis, and tossed him to an approaching soldier, who happened to be Harvey. Harvey raised Number Two above his head, and started plowing through the crowd. Sarah made use of her gadget, and I dove in front of a guard, tripping him. He knocked into another, and there was a pleasant domino effect. I got up, and ran for the table. I picked it up(the fruit bowl crashing to the floor and shattering), and threw it at the nearest enemy. It bounced off of him, leaving no effect. One of them grabbed me from behind by my shirt, cutting off my air supply. My fingers clawed at my collar. Sarah was nowhere in sight. My lungs began to ache. Danny was staggering towards me. I began to see spots. Through the chaos, Curtis came in sight. He was by the jet-packs. He had one in his hand.

"_Go!_" I rasped, and passed out.

_Another Author's Note: Yes, I know. Bernard sure passes out a lot, doesn't he? Don't worry. He won't be so helpless throughout the whole story._


	23. Redemption

I opened my eyes.

"Finally." said Sarah. "Took you long enough. How's that neck of yours?"

"Sore." I muttered, and looked around. Yes, we were locked back in the pantograph room, but at least the lights were on this time. Danny was there too.

"Did Curtis make it?" I asked, standing up.

"Yeah, he did." said Sarah. "He collided with the walls a few times before doing so, but he made it."

"Danny, what are the chances of an elf, untrained in flight, making it to Santa with a jet-pack?" I asked.

"Well," he said, carefully. "allowing for the distance involved, the weather conditions, Curtis's weight, and the amount of gas in the pack...about a million to one."

"We'll be alright, then." Sarah said, with a smile. "A-million-to-one shots always work. Otherwise there wouldn't be any heroes alive in the universe today."

"This is reality, not some adventure story." I said.

"Says you. Haven't you heard of Saj's Author Transference Law?"

"No."

"That's probably 'cause I just made it up."

"You're in a good mood, for a captive." I remarked.

"You get used to captivity in my profession."

"And what profession is that?"

"Saving the universe, of course!"

"Oh, of _course._ How could I have forgotten? I suppose Harvey was demolished, was he?"

"Yeah." said Sarah, frowning. "Funny thing, that. Several soldiers blocked him from my view, and when they parted, he was dismantled."

"What's so strange about that?" Danny asked.

"They parted too quickly. They couldn't possibly have had time to pick him apart, piece by piece, epecially if he was fighting back. The logical conclusion would be that there's a sweet spot on the toy soldier body that makes it fall to pieces when hit. The Toy Santa must've built them like that, just in case they were turned against him."

"So, once you find the weak spot with your gadgets-"

"Yeah, about that." Sarah scratched the back of her head, looking embarassed. "They're sort of...gone. Soldiers took 'em all."

The doors opened. About twenty-six elves were ushered in. Joey, Judy, Abby, Phillip, and Cindy were among them. The soldiers shut, and relocked the doors once they were all in.

"Hey, man," Sarah said, with the air of a jail-bird. "what're yah in for?"

"We were attempting to break you out of here." said Judy.

"Well, _nice_ work." said Sarah, sarcastically.

"Hey, quiet, you!" I snapped at her. I turned to Judy. "It's alright. It was brave of you to try."

"Bravery is stupidity if careful planning isn't employed." said Sarah.

"A lot of the other workers saw us." said Cindy. "I think we might've inspired a rebellion."

"A rebellion that will only succeed in getting us a lot more cellmates."

"You, and your mood swings!" I said, exasperatedly.

"Hey, you!" Joey came over to me. He looked angry. "I think we deserve an explanation! Why didn't you tell us that we were working for a toy?!"

"He did!" said Cindy.

"Only when it was too late." said Phillip.

Slowly, I sat down. As one, the others did too. I told them everything, minus the fact that I had an unknown assassin after me.

"I'm sorry." I said, feeling that the words were completely inadequate. "I know this is my fault. I'll take full responsibilty if- _when_ this blows over."

"That's my Bernard." Judy said, with a small smile. "No wonder you're so high-strung. Always blaming yourself. You were just following orders. It's not your duty to keep Santa in check."

"You're not...mad at me?" I asked, bewildered. I looked at the other's faces for confirmation. None of them looked condemning.

"Your decision was an historically advisable one." Abby said, sounding like how I imagined Spock would be. "The last time an elf defied a Santa, it was a complete disaster."

"Yeah," Joey said, grudgingly. "it wasn't your fault."

"Thank you." I said, still stunned.

"It was Santa's." Joey continued.

"_What?!_"

"He put his priorities before that of the Workshop's, and therefore, before the children of the world's." said Abby. "It's in the Handbook."

"It wasn't like that!" I protested, but part of me agreed with them. Why was I defending a decision I had never agreed with in the first place? "He had no choice!"

"He should've put _you_ in charge, not that _thing_." Joey said, with disgust.

"But...maintaining the worker's moral-" I said, feebly.

"-isn't worth the risk of something like this happening." Judy said, firmly.

So, great. I'd gotten my redemption, but at the price of casting doubt on the greatest leader we'd had since before my time.


End file.
